xmlns:og='http://ogp.me/ns#' Kryssie Fortune: November 2016

Tuesday, 29 November 2016

Her Drill Sergeant, @KatherineDeane1 #BDSM #spanking #military

Her Drill Sergeant Dom
By Katherine Deane

Basic training is a killer—in more ways than one
He knows how to motivate her- and it’s not with push-ups
Find a killer, do a million push-ups, fall in love- typical day in the Army

Sales Blurb:
Basic training is a killer—in more ways than one.
USA Today bestselling author Katherine Deane brings you a romantic suspense that will leave you gasping.
Twenty-four year old journalist Smyth McCullen is following the trail of a killer, right onto Fort Hancock Army training center.  After two murders of young women just out of basic, both under the same drill sergeant, Smyth knows she must join the Army to unravel the truth.
Little does she know that Basic is dangerous in more ways than one. Protecting her battle buddy, working through sixteen hours of grueling training a day, and following a potential bad guy, is nothing compared to falling for a dominant, undercover  drill sergeant.
Hunter Jones is undercover, looking into the potential murders under Drill Sergeant Cage’s direction.  He’s been through many deployments, both public, and some not so public. He’s interrogated bad guys, fallen behind enemy lines, and is prepared in every way to act as a drill sergeant and save another potential victim. What he’s not prepared for is the sexy, young strawberry blonde who is definitely not eighteen.
As their attraction grows, they march one step closer to the end of the session, and imminent danger.  Can Smyth find the killer in time? Can Hunter protect the next target, especially if it’s Smyth?  
Lovers of steamy romance, hot military heroes and plucky heroines will adore Katherine Deane’s hot new romantic suspense.

Her Drill Sergeant Dom is a fully written story with HEA and no cliffhangers.


  1. (Naughty girls get spanked) PK
“So. Let me see if I can take a guess.” He walked back in front of her, and watched her gaze as she followed him. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of green and hazel—they were even brighter right now.  “You decided instead of getting some much needed sleep, that you would disobey the rules about activity after lights out. You took out your non-Army issued reading material, your flashlight, and snuck it into your bed. Is that right?”
She squeaked an un-intelligible murmur, and averted her gaze.
“You have been very naughty, Private McCullen. Tell me.” He leaned in closer and met her gaze. “What happens to naughty girls in the books you read?”
She sucked in a breath, and tensed her body, her eyes closed for a second as she shivered. “Oh God.”
“Tell me the truth. Please. What happens to naughty little girls who disobey in your stories?”
McCullen licked her lips and rocked back and forth before looking down the full length of his body. Her sudden inhale of breath preceded an awkward tilt of her pelvis when she saw his tented shorts. Her eyes met his, and she leaned in toward him, inhaling his scent. She broke contact first and looked at his chest. “I don’t know.”
“Do they get sent to bed without supper? Do they have to do extra work around the farm? How does the man punish his woman?” He shouldn't be doing this. Even if he had read the signs wrong, even if she wasn't who she said she was, it was completely irresponsible, not to mention a misuse of his authority. He should send her to bed right now.
“They get spanked,” she whispered and met his gaze again.

  1.  (I’m going to spank you, and you’re going to love it.)     BJW
“So my punishment is over?”
“Yes, it is. And you are forgiven. Did that kind of punishment work better than a spanking? Be honest.”
She wanted to grumble and lie and tell him no. But she chose to be frank, even if it did suck. “Yeah. It was horrible. I was embarrassed and angry and turned on with no relief in sight. And then you said all that stuff— it was all true—but it hurt to hear. I think your disappointment was the worst part of the punishment.”
“Thank you for your honesty. Now I know how to punish you in the future. And spankings are definitely on a different list.”
“But I’m still getting spanked today?” Her voice raised a few octaves with hopefulness.
“Hell yeah. I’m going to spank you so hard, you’ll feel it for the next week. And you’re going to love it.”
“Yes, sir.” She grinned. “Where do you want me?”
He sat down on the bed, and beckoned her toward him. “Over my lap, naughty little Private.”

  1. (Role Playing)
“Sara Warfield, you get your ass back over that bed now so I can whip you good and proper.”
“No woodshed, Seth?” She giggled and wiggled her ass, taunting him as she took her place.
“Oh baby, you have no idea the things I can do to you outside a woodshed. Spread your legs.”
She quickly obeyed and resumed character, her eyes flashing at him. “Well, it’s your fault the horses got away. You should have let me see that foal when I asked.” She stood up and placed her hands on her hips in a posture of pure defiance. “You’re not going to punish me for this. I won’t allow it. Damnit.” She added the swear word for good measure, and he had to fight not to grin at her.
“We’ll add a good mouth soaping after I blister your butt.” He shoved her face first down on the bed, and started spanking her with fast, hard swats with his hand.
“Ow, ow, ow!” She shrieked and tried to get out from under him, but he just pushed on the small of her back, and kept her pinned there.
“You better stop flailing your legs, young lady.” He gave her the hardest smack yet, and she swore at him again, while trying to wiggle away from him. “That’s enough hollering out of you.” He brought his hand down right between her legs and smacked her right in the center of her wet pussy, smacking her, but not as hard as his other swats had been.
She mewled and stilled below him, shocked.
“Hold still Sara. I’m going to spank you there again.” He spread her legs even further apart, and lifted her ass up.
“No, please not there. Seth. I’ll be good. I promise, I’ll hold still.”
“You’ll hold still for your belt whipping all right—after I spank your pussy.” He trailed his finger along the wet lips, amazed at the amount of arousal there. Yeah, she was loving this as much as he. “Now you hold still girl, and I’ll stop after two. Don’t you dare move.”
“Yes, Seth.” She trembled below him, fear and lust in her eyes, but a small grin she couldn’t seem to hide, even in character.  She raised her bottom for him, and spread her legs.

  1. (Interrogated by her sexy drill sergeant) - KRB
“You should always lock your footlocker, McCullen. Now, should we continue talking about your delightfully kinky pleasure reading, or talk about the truth, and what I might have to do to get it out of you?” He was just standing there waiting for her to make up her mind, one leg lazily crossed against the other as he leaned against the wall, looking more like a bored drill sergeant rather than a practiced dom about to whip her ass. Heat built between her legs again.
Should she trust him with the truth? What if he was one of the bad guys, and was in league with Cage? How was she to know whom to trust?  She would just have to suck it up. A little spanking and some extra PT wasn’t going to kill her. Granted, she would die of humiliation if Rose or someone else walked in and saw her. But Hunter seemed to be taking extra care to keep this moment between them private. When had she started calling him Hunter instead of Drill Sergeant? Oh yeah, probably the moment he whispered in her ear about whipping her ass, turning her into a complete puddle of lustful mush. A soft groan escaped her lips as she pictured herself calling him Drill Sergeant while he spanked her over and over.
“Are you okay?” He startled her from her musing.
“Yes, Drill Sergeant.”
“So, what’s it going to be, little girl? Truth or punishment followed by truth—and more punishment afterwards, because I don’t like saying things twice.” His features were a mask of neutrality as if he could care less either way.


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About Katherine Deane
USA Today bestselling author Katherine Deane is a multi-published, top 100 romantic and BDSM author and romantic at heart. While she enjoys her life as a stay at home mom, married to the man of her dreams, she also loves fantasizing. She reads and writes in many different genres, but her favorites are: erotic romance, paranormal, fantasy, and science fiction. She blogs about her life as an everyday woman (and closet Spanko), and about her career as a published author.

You can catch up with her at:

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Wednesday, 23 November 2016

John Paul Jones – “I haven’t begun to fight yet”

Today I saw the lights of Flamborough lighthouse illuminating the North Sea. With America’s Thanksgiving on the horizon, it made me think of the famous sea battle fought just off Flamborough Head.
As a Brit I should be appalled that some American dared to take on the King’s Navy and win. Actually, I have a sneaking admiration for the man known as the Father of the American Navy. He’s my kind of hero—one with brains as well as balls.
Curious, I looked into his background. Guess what? He’s a Brit. Born on the North West Coast of Scotland in July 1747, he learned the ropes—pun intended—on Britain’s sailing ships.
When Jones served as third mate on the Brig, John, the captain and the first mate both died of yellow fever. Jones took command and brought the ship safely back to port.
When Jones fell foul of the British aristocracy, he decamped to America. Again he forged a naval career, but yet again he fell out with his superiors. He believed Commodore Hopkins deliberately stopped his advancement. Thanks to the commodore, Jones was assigned a smaller boat than he’d been promised. He took command of The Ranger, on the same day America adopted the Stars and Stripes.
Jones sailed to France with orders to assist America's cause. There he met up with Benjamin Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee. While he was there, the French formally recognized America as an independent nation. The Ranger was the first American formally saluted by the French.
The French might have accepted America as a nation, but the English hadn’t. Jones sailed from France to Britain and harried shipping in the Irish Sea. 
When Jones tried to capture the Earl of Selkirk so he could exchange him for American sailors impressed into the British Navy, he wasn’t home. Instead, his wife entertained the Captain and crew.
The crew wanted to pillage the Earl’s silver. Jones limited their take, and later when it was sold, he bought it and returned it to the Earl. Eventually, in 1779, Jones made his way to Yorkshire Coast. By now he commanded a bigger ship, USS Bonhomme Richard.
Just off Flamborough Head, a few miles from my home, Jones harried a convoy of British merchant ships. They had naval protection, HMS Serapis and the hired ship Countess of Scarborough. They placed themselves between Jones and the merchant ships. When the Bonhomme Richard took damage, the navy asked Jones if he wanted to surrender. His answer echoes down the years. “I haven’t started to fight yet.”

The battle turned, and master seaman that Jones was, he sailed off in the captured Serapis.
His efforts around British waters were more than an inconvenience. They tied up naval ships that could have sailed to America and aided the British forces.

Jones was a true swashbuckling hero who fought for his country, but was honorable enough to return stolen goods. I don’t care if I’m pulling for the wrong side here, but I really like this man. 

If you enjoyed this, please check out my Amazon author page. amzn.to/2eTYU9e

Tuesday, 22 November 2016

Bailey's Little Adventure #spanking, #BDSM @summerGraystone

Even though she is an adult with a full-time job, Bailey loves role-playing as daddy’s naughty little girl. Nothing is more fun than dressing like a teen and teasing her husband, who is always ready to punish her properly before pleasuring her more than she would have thought possible. When she discovers that he would like to tie her up so that she is completely vulnerable and at his mercy, she trusts him to keep her safe, even when he pushes her past her comfort zone.

But Bailey’s perfectionism makes her insecure about their relationship, and when she makes a mistake that disappoints her daddy she panics and wonders if she could lose him forever. Can he prove to Bailey that even when things get really hard, he will always be there for his little girl with the love, guidance, and discipline she needs?

Publisher’s Note: Bailey’s Little Adventure contains spankings, sexual scenes, age play, elements of BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book. This book is also available as part of a five-book collection entitled Little Haven.

Excerpt 1: (PK)

“For being so patient with me, with work and everything. I saw this and thought of you, thought you might like it.” He handed me the box.
I reached up and kissed his cheek, then tore through the Hello Kitty wrapping paper. The box inside was blue, with a little gold sticker holding it shut. I slipped my finger beneath it, and the lid popped open. Inside was blue tissue paper. I pulled it back carefully, not really knowing what to expect.
It was a teddy bear, the old-fashioned kind with button eyes and a stitched-on mouth and nose. Even without taking it out of the box, I knew it had arms and legs that moved and a tiny tab sewn into the back seam with the name of the company, and a tiny bear stitched on it in emerald green. My hands shook as I pulled the bear out of the box. I’d had the exact same bear as a child.
“Bailey? What is it?”
I couldn’t stop it. Tears fell down my cheeks, landing on the bear’s cinnamon-colored fur. He blurred, and I blinked back more tears.
“This is the bear my mom gave me. The exact same one. It was the last thing I had from her, before she… went away.”
“Oh, Bailey. I’m so sorry.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Do you want me to take it?” He reached for the bear, but I shook my head, holding it close to me.
“No. I love him. It’s just…” I hugged the bear, tears starting up again. “I miss my mom. And I don’t want… I don’t want you to go away, because she did, right after she gave me the bear.” My words came out in a rush, mixed with sobs. Ian rocked me against him, his voice soft, murmuring wordless sounds against my hair.
“I’m not going anywhere, Bailey. I’m not going to leave you. I’m fine. Your mom was sick…”
He knew the story. She’d had cancer. But I’d been too young then to understand. I knew now, in my mind, what had happened. But in my heart, when I was a kid—and now, sometimes—I still thought she’d left me, that she’d been mad at me.
We sat in each other’s arms until the doorbell rang. Ian went down and took care of the pizza delivery. When he came back, I was still sitting on the bed. He sat beside me, and after a few minutes he picked up the hairbrush from the bedside table.
“Turn around.”
I shifted so my back was to him. While I cradled the bear, he brushed my hair. My mom had done this, and when we were first married, on a day when I’d been in tears over something, he’d picked up the brush and brushed my hair. I don’t know why it comforted me so much. Maybe it was how tight he clasped me, how he held me close. I felt safe.
We sat for a long time, until I was calm, until my tears and the fear of him leaving for no reason had passed. Finally he set the brush aside.
Excerpt 2: RR
I wanted him to spank me, let me cry, let out all the stress and tension from the day. But this was unexpected, and it was pretty intense. There were too many emotions running through me, and I was confused.
“Fine. It’s time for your punishment then. You know what to do.”
With something like relief, I went through the ritual of moving to the side, kneeling down, and laying myself across his knees. It was always the same, and it set off the same anticipation inside me. And the same sense of safety. This was what I wanted, and this was how it was supposed to be.
When I had settled across his knees, he set one hand on my back, the other on my ass. I wiggled against him, feeling his cock pressing against my side. It seemed impossibly hard and hot, and it excited me to know I could make him feel this way.
The first hit was hard, and I winced at the sting. My skin was already tingling and this smack lit me up in a way I’d never experienced before. It was still confusing, but being spanked like this was familiar and comforting.
The next smack made me cry out, the pain sharp and intense. Then he rubbed his hand over me, caressing me for a moment.
“You know you’re my little girl, Bailey. And you need to be punished when you misbehave, don’t you?” His voice was low, just as soothing as the hand rubbing my ass.
Before I could answer, he spanked me again, and my answer turned into a gasp. As he gently rubbed my skin, I squirmed as the pain subsided from sharp and stinging into something warm and delicious—like caramel topping on ice cream, thick and sweet, running down over the cool treat.
The heat sank through me, like it always did, pooling between my legs. Instantly I was wet and as much as I wanted the spanking to continue, I was ready for what would come next.
But Ian’s hand came down on me again, quickly followed by another slap, and another. My cries went from gasps and moans of pleasure, to tears and cries. This hurt, it stung, and my tender skin felt like it was on fire. I gritted my teeth, hands clenched in fists, enduring each slap.
“Daddy, please.” I turned, looking up into his eyes. Ian blinked down at me, his hand resting on the burning skin of my ass.
“You lied, Bailey. You know the punishment for lying is this, right?”
I nodded. “Yes, daddy.”
His hand moved in a circle over my ass now, and I thought he was done with the punishment. But then I froze. I wasn’t allowed to ask him to stop. Tears sprung up again, and I looked back to his face.
“I’m sorry… I forgot…” I sniffled. “It won’t happen again.”
“You’re right. It won’t.” His hand came down once more and I burst into tears. “I’m your daddy, Bailey, and I know what’s best for you. I take care of you, don’t I?”
I nodded, sniffling again. “Yes, daddy.”
Beyond the pain, as always, was relief. The tears washed away the adult stress of my day, leaving me clean and free, allowing me space to be the Bailey I wanted to be.
“I’m sorry, daddy. I promise to be a good girl.” I wiggled in his lap, just a little, testing him. Beneath me his thighs tensed, his hips rolling up slightly. It was okay; things would be okay now.
His hand moved lower down, fingers slipping into the cleft of my ass. I wiggled harder, but his fingers stopped. This was what Ian needed: control. Too much independence from me, and he felt lost. I struggled to lie still.
“Good girl.”

Excerpt 3: RS
“Take off your bra, Bailey.” His voice had gone soft and hypnotic. My hands trembled as I reached behind me and undid the clasp on my bra. The straps slipped off my shoulders, and I let it fall to the floor.
“You’re so beautiful…” Ian knelt in front of me, his eyes roaming over my exposed breasts. I was pretty sure we were out of my role-playing and into his thing now, and I sat still, waiting for whatever he wanted… or needed… to do.
He held the ice cube out, water dripping on his knee. With infinite slowness he touched the ice cube to my nipple. I jerked away, and Ian looked up at me.
“Sit still, Bailey. I don’t want to have to tie you up.” His voice dropped even lower. “Unless you want me to?”
I shook my head. I knew I was in trouble and deserved to be punished. I know when we do the bondage sessions, it is always amazing; I just wasn’t sure I wanted to be restrained when he was using all the ice on me.
“Then sit still. And don’t talk, unless I ask you a question. You’re under obedience.”
He brought the ice cube back against my breast, circling my nipple, but not quite touching it. For a second I couldn’t tell what it felt like. It was painful, and I thought I wanted him to stop, but I knew I couldn’t ask for that.
I gritted my teeth as he ran the ice cube in smaller and smaller circles, teasing, flirting, grazing my hardened nipple. I knew it would be intense and I was right.
When he touched the ice to my puckered nipple, I cried out, grabbing his wrist. He looked up at me, one eyebrow raised.
“Let go, Bailey.” He held my eyes, waiting patiently until I reluctantly let go of his wrist. “Hang on to the edge of the chair. Don’t let go. If you do, I’ll find something else to do with you.”
I was breathing hard, but I did as he asked, grabbing the edge of the kitchen chair. Ian smiled, then went back to his patient task, making slow circles again, starting the whole thing over. My only hope was the ice cube would melt.
He ran the ice cube across my nipple again, and I bit my lip. It was intense, but almost instantly he pulled the ice away. Before I could even process what I felt, he leaned forward, licking my nipple. My body reacted to the familiar, arching against him, but before I could even enjoy the feeling, he pulled away. The ice cube came back, rubbing against my now-softened nipple.
He kept switching, rubbing the ice cube over my nipple, pulling it away, then sucking my nipple into his mouth. He moved between my breasts, kissing and sucking me, then rubbing my nipples with the ice.
I’d spread my legs, an open invitation, aching for his touch somewhere besides my breasts. I knew he was aroused. There was no way I could miss his erection tenting the front of his sweats.
I was gripping the chair so hard my knuckles were white. As much as I wanted to be touched, I wanted to touch Ian.
But I knew he had the patience and self-control to keep this up far longer than I could stand. He knew this, and it was something he exploited.
By the time the cube melted, I was gasping, shaking, and so totally aroused I could barely hold still.
Finally he sat back on his heels, hands resting on my knees, looking up at me. “Did you like that, Bailey?”
“Yes.” My voice was a breathless whisper.
“Do you want me to do that again?”
I shook my head. “No. I want…” I bit back what I was going to say. Part of obeying him during times like these meant that I could only say yes or no. It was hard for me, and no matter how hard I tried, I usually broke obedience.
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

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Author Bio:
Hi! So my name is Summer, and I’m a part time erotica author, who attends classes during the day, and writes dirty romantic erotica by night. When I’m not in school studying photography, I also work as a portrait photographer at a small local studio near the beaches of Florida.
Some fun facts about me are that I love apple martinis (I just turned 21, so I can’t get enough of them) and I love Star Wars, The Vampire Diaries, the Originals, The Walking Dead and Smallville. I’m a gamer girl too. Animals are close to my heart, and I have a 3-month-old bearded dragon named Yoda (he’s green and white) and a spaz of a dog named Nala who is a Terrier/Pomeranian mix, but I digress.
My favorite thing to do is to write sexy stories that will melt your panties off, and emotional stories that will make you cry, and rejoice when the hero gets the girl in the end.

Authors Links:

Tuesday, 15 November 2016

Little Lizzie's Reform Victorian #BDSM #Erotica #ageplay


Thomas Montgomery seeks out troubled ladies that are in need of a strict and proper upbringing, encouraging them to join Alton Reform. Discovering Elizabeth Grey alone by the tavern at night, he insists he accompany her on the journey home, to ensure she makes her return safely. It is her sharp tongue and fiery defiance that makes him desire her as his little Lizzie.
Without reservation, he suggests to her father that Elizabeth be sent away to Alton Reform, a school known for its strict disciplinary measures to create fine young ladies capable of obeying their husbands. Ladies that without such correction would wind up in an asylum for their tenacious and troublesome ways.
Unwed and with no prospects of marriage, Elizabeth is forced by her father to attend Alton Reform and be trained by her governess under the headmaster’s guidance.
Elizabeth does not take well to Alton Reform’s ways of discipline. Unpleased after a stern spanking to her bare bottom, Elizabeth runs away, only to be caught by Mr. Thomas Montgomery.
Will he force her to return to Alton Reform? Can Thomas show Elizabeth that love can be gained from discipline? How will she feel when he confesses his desire to make her his little Lizzie?
*Little Lizzie’s Reform features elements of age play, anal play, discipline, and graphic sex.

Available now from:
Excerpt 1

“What is in Alton, father?” He did not elaborate which only made her stomach flop with uncertainty. “Father?” Elizabeth tried again, hoping he would answer her question. She did not like the unknown, and worse she hadn’t even attempted to eavesdrop on their conversation! Why hadn’t she thought to press her ear to the door or leave it ajar to discover what was said? Elizabeth had been wrong in assuming that the handsome gentleman had just brought her back to her father and ratted her out. What more had happened? “Are you sending me off to marry that hideous boy from the carriage?” Her face scrunched in disgust. Not so much from the gentleman who was hardly a boy, but the thought of marriage itself she found repulsive.
“Thomas?” her father asked and laughed. “Hardly. I do not think a man of such a reputation and high caliber would want my own daughter. Which is why it was suggested to me that you attend Alton Reform.”
“You want me to attend a finishing school?” Elizabeth asked.
“No.” Her father shook his head only once, it was enough to get the message and also to see the stern steely gaze to know that he meant her to listen. “You will be schooled in listening and obeying, so that you might be provided the opportunity for a husband.”

Excerpt 2

Buttoning her coat, she pulled it tighter as she headed for the door on her way out of the tavern.
“Please do not tell me you came alone,” a gentleman with thick brown hair said as he held open the door for her. He towered above Elizabeth, gazing down at her with a stern gaze.
“My friend left early,” Elizabeth said; it was a lie. Had Isabel shown up, she would have had someone to accompany her at least half way home on foot. The walk was not bad, she had learned ways to cut through town and make the journey quicker.
“Right,” he said, staring at her, sizing her up. He did not so much as blink as he refused to look away.
He had the palest blue eyes that she had ever seen, with thick dark lashes that matched his mahogany hair. He was striking, no doubt, but Elizabeth had done well to avoid men and did not wish to change her ways now. She hadn’t paid anyone much attention in the tavern, but the way he answered, she half-wondered if he’d been watching her.
He shook his head, clearly unpleased. “It is not right for a lady such as yourself to be walking alone at night. I shall accompany you home. Unless you have a carriage waiting for you?” He glanced outside, waiting to see if her coachman would show himself and take responsibility for the girl being on her own. No one came forward.
“Sir, I do not know you,” Elizabeth said, glancing at him from head to toe. He was well dressed, a striking gentleman a few years older than her. “It would be improper for you, a stranger, to walk me to my door.” He appeared pleasant and kind but that did not mean the moment they stepped away from the tavern that he would not turn on her and insist to steal her virtue in the darkened streets. Perhaps she was foolish for being so cautious but she could not help the feeling that she found unsettling as he offered to escort her home. Besides, should he escort her to the door, her father would have had a fit to discover she had snuck out.
 “Then perhaps my coachman and I will accompany you to your home. Surely your husband or father would be grateful to know that you have returned safely.”
He didn’t seem to back down, no matter how hard she pushed that she did not require an escort to accompany her home.

Excerpt 3

With a heavy sigh, Elizabeth stepped forward into the house, wiping her shoes before taking several steps back, probably hoping to disappear into her bedroom and be forgotten about. Would she risk escaping again, just to avoid punishment?
“I know it is not my place, Sir, but perhaps I can offer a word of advice.” Thomas was not sure it was wise to interfere. It had been made clear to him that Elizabeth did not hold any sense of respect for the elder and it would do her well to gain a better understanding of right and wrong. Some children needed a little more encouragement, even as they grew beyond their childhood years.
“You are right it is not your place,” the older man said, “but as her father, I am up to my wits’ end trying to control the boisterous girl. Her friend, that Isabel girl has put the devil in her, and I have done all that I could to separate the two of them. Isabel has since been married off but it seems my Elizabeth has not yet grown out of such unfitting behavior.”
“There is a reformatory that I am well acquainted with, my own sister was sent there with a horrible bout of hysteria and has since been married and is with her first child. I can assure you that doctors were concerned if she did not attend such an establishment, she would still be suffering from hysteria and locked away in an asylum. I can only assume you do not wish for such a fate for your daughter.”
“My Elizabeth does not suffer from hysteria,” he scoffed at such an idea. “She is trouble but she is not unwell. Discipline is what she needs, not an asylum.”

About the Author
Allison West is a #1 International Best-Selling Author in Erotica, BDSM, Romantic Erotica, Sci-Fi, Victorian, and Historical Erotica. She also writes young adult novels under the name Ruth Silver.

Allison West has been inventing worlds and writing stories for years. Her favorite novels are those that leave a lasting impression, long after the final page is read. You can find more about Allison on Facebook and Twitter.

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