Pleased by the Knight is out and reviews are in!

Book four of Loving the Knight is out:
Pleased by the Knight: Loving the Knight, Book Four by Sadie Dane


Gia knows she is luckier than most. When she was purchased by the king of Atvia as a child, she wasn’t turned into a slave. Instead, she was cherished, and when she came of age, she became the king’s most trusted knight – as well as Hora. As such, she is responsible for training the potential brides and keeping up the morale of the men. Sure, any wrong deed may land her in Discipline Plaza with her bottom in the air, but even that is for her own good.

When a foreign prince arrives, the king asks Gia to fulfill another task; to determine the honesty of the outsider. It is an assignment she readily accepts.

Prince Corbin can’t wait to exit Atvia the moment he arrives there. It is hot, unforgiving land – that is, until he catches sight of the sexiest woman he has ever seen. She gives him the night of his life; one he unfortunately can’t fully enjoy, as the drug she slips him causes him to pass out. The next morning, he is furious and demands retribution. He soon discovers that they do things a little differently in Atvia…

Can he really spank this beautiful woman in public? And, more importantly, once he starts, will he ever be able to stop?


Gia knelt at the feet of her master. As a child he had been her protector and world. Now, as a grown woman, he was her father and her king. There was nothing sexual in the way she rested her head against his knees, but there was love and trust. He affectionately patted her dark locks once before gesturing that she should rise.

“My sweet oasis, I feel as if it has been forever since I spent time with you.” He spoke to her in English, as he often did when they were alone, instead of his native Atvian.

“I’ve found myself very busy with my hora duties these days. Though, if it displeases you, I can stop,” Gia replied.

“No, no, no. I would never ask that of you.” He leaned in and whispered like he was telling a secret. “I fear the men may revolt if I tried to. They sing songs immortalizing your skills.”

Gia couldn’t help the smile forming on her face. She’d heard the songs, but it was the source of the compliment that really pleased her. “I take all of my duties seriously. My task is an important one, preparing the herd for you.”

The king frowned, forming a wrinkle between the eyebrows on his ageless face. “You know I don’t like you referring to them as animals. Not even in jest.”

Gia dropped her head, immediately chastised. “I do care for them, Father. Please, forgive me.”


The king sat down on a thick rug woven with dark reds, browns, and greens. He reclined back, surrounded by plush pillows that complimented his darker coloring. He was a man that enjoyed the finer things. Soft cloths, beautiful women, and exotic foods.

His taste had been her saving grace, so many years ago. When she’d been dropped at his feet as a small child, spitting and swinging at whatever came near, the young king had been drawn to her fair skin and the way it had shone against her dark hair and eyes. She had been a rebellious, wild child and for many in her position that was where her story could have ended. A life of servitude if she was lucky. But Gia had been purchased, renamed and treated as much like a princess as was possible without actually holding the title.

Now, she held not only the highest position a female could hold, save for the king’s wives but also held the only title of knighthood offered to women in Atvia. A knighthood of one. As Hora of Atvia, she governed the training of potential brides as well as the morale of the Atvian soldiers.

Known to some as the seducer, to others as a friend and to most as the night you will never forget, Gia excelled in making men believe and feel what she needed them to believe and feel. She had learned most of her skills observing the beautiful, bronzed man in front of her. He radiated power, had an army large enough to justify his arrogance, but the weapons the king used more frequently were his charm, wit and intelligence.

“I do have a favor to ask of you.” He managed to sound contrite while also confident that she would not refuse him. Indeed, he did not even wait for her consent to continue. “The foreign prince that arrives today, Prince Corbin of Ceravique. Pay close attention to him.”

Gia tensed. “Do you suspect he’s come to harm you?”

The king patted the pillow beside him and Gia went to him, sitting down at his side. “Nothing like that. But, I am wary. My newest bride was supposed to be the one arriving today. Instead, I receive word that the foreign prince is coming in her stead with his tale as to why.” He grabbed her hands, holding them in each of his.

“I see.”

“Watch him, dear one, with your eyes that miss nothing.”

“And if he is lying?”

The king smiled. “Then you will have a chance to do what you are second best at.”

From the arched doorway came a knock. A dusty messenger entered. The king made no attempt to move away from Gia, their embraces were not something he hid or felt shame about. They kept no secrets from each other. “You asked for first word,” the messenger began apologetically. “They’ve been spotted on the main road. All those who departed, minus the two men lost and your intended, Princess Lotte.”

“The prince?”

“He is with them.”

The king nodded and the messenger departed, leaving the two of them alone again.

The king lovingly squeezed her hands. “I believe it is time for you to prepare,” he said as if he wished she could stay longer.

Gia was already getting to her feet, eager to please him. “Do not worry, my king,” she said with determination.

For a longer sample or links to buy, visit the Blushing Books page!

Here is what people are saying about Pleased by the Knight:

I really enjoyed this book. Good dialog, exciting plot. The punishments were severe but appropriate in the context of the story. They fell in love quickly but deeply. It is a short book but it packs a punch. I was left wanting more.

…There are many sexual scenes, some graphic. There are spankings in the public center (but they aren’t that descriptive. There is also a caning. The story is a cute one about True love overcoming all. The ending was a bit rushed. But it was a happy one.

I am really excited about this latest release and for anyone who has read all of the books, there is a special little bit at the end of Pleased by the Knight that I hope you enjoy 😀


Totally tooting my own horn OR the post where I really should have larger graphics.

Protected_AmazonrankPerhaps there will come a day when releasing a book is not an event that causes an endless tide of self doubt and triumph, but this is not that day. Protected by the Knight has been out for about one and a half weeks. I am happy to report it has been listed at #77 and #87 on two Amazon lists.

Protected by the Knight has also reached #43 in Blushing Books 50 bestseller list.

BBprotectedSo, if you don’t have your copy, go ahead and try a few pages! The free sample is not short. I repeat, it is not short.

Available on Amazon, Barnes and Noble and Blushing Books!

Now, I just get to wait for #4!


New Release: Sorrowlands by Iris Woodbury

New release from not only a great author but a great friend!

SORROWLANDS: Flora and the Demi-Gods – Introductory Low Price!



Just released by Mystic Books, Sorrowlands is the tale of Flora, a dryad, wrongly accused by Hades of her husband’s murder. Condemned to death, her sentence is commuted to exile and she is sold as a concubine to one of Hades sons, Ragnold. While the God of the Underworld plots to seize Olympus, Flora steals a sacred chalice, the source of his power.  Aided only by a reluctant soldier and an over-sexed satyr, she escapes her bondage and must cross the deadly Sorrowlands to return what she has stolen.  The only question is, will she able to complete her mission in time?

Link to buy the book: Sorrowlands


There were no plush furnishings in Maljandra’s apartment. Flora was left unguarded and unchained and she wondered why they hadn’t made her more secure. The moment they left, she walked cautiously to the terrace. As she drew close, her vision faded. She shook her head and stepped back. The moment she retreated, her vision returned. How strange, she thought. She turned and made a dash for the door. She put her hand on it and her sight left her completely. She turned too quickly, and lost her balance. Fear engulfed her and her heart pounded in her ears. She spread her hands out blindly and sought a solid surface to latch onto. A gasp escaped her when she brushed against the silken tunic of a man.

“There’s no use to trying to escape,” said a cold, clear voice. “My apartments are enchanted.”

“I cannot see,” Flora cried. “Give me back my eyes or I shall go mad.”

“The enchantment will lift when I tell it to and not a moment before. Clearly you tried to do something you should not.”

She flinched as Maljandra’s hand touched her shoulder. The wizard let it linger there, and then turned her body toward him. She recoiled at his touch but he only sighed pleasantly. With one quick maneuver he pushed the tattered silk garment off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. “Such a pity,” he said. “You’re quite a beauty. Still, you’re to be marked for Hades, so I cannot touch you now.”

“I heard you were a great wizard, prove your goodness and set me free.”

Maljandra laughed a low, hollow laugh. “If you’ve heard anything at all, I’ll wager you’ve heard of my indifference to the pleas of desperate women.”

He took her hand and jerked her arm. “Follow me.” She stumbled, but quickly got her feet under her for fear he would drag her across the floor. She reached out to keep herself from running into anything and her hand connected with a doorway as they passed through into another chamber. The sound of trickling water reached her ears. “You must be prepared for the ritual. Wait here.”

Perhaps he left for only a few seconds, but to Flora, blind and naked in a strange place, it felt like an eternity. She stood vulnerable and trembling, and felt more fear than she’d ever known before. Her empty stomach roared for attention, and if she did not eat soon, she would faint. She had need of Dero’s courage, and she turned the ring still on her finger. A warm sensation crept through her tired limbs and her hunger faded at once, but not even Dero’s magic was enough to erase her fear of pain. What will he do to me? What form will the sacrifice take? How much will I suffer?

She did not have to wonder long for the mage soon returned.

“Come,” Maljandra said. He took her hand and led her forward. Slowly, they walked down a couple of steps and then water rose over her foot. As they descended the steps, the water rose up her legs and she realized they were in a pool.This must be his bathing chamber. The water was warm and soothed her blood-stained skin. Nevertheless she advanced cautiously, and her legs locked, afraid she might slip and fall. As he brushed by her, Flora felt the wizard’s bare skin and knew he’d undressed to bathe her.

The slightly rough surface of a sponge rubbed across her body as the mage wiped away the stench of stale blood and the dungeon. He washed her slowly and carefully, and left no part of her body untouched. She trembled with every stroke, and she sensed her fear pleased him. As his hands washed her hair, he was close up against her, and Flora felt both his desire and frustration.

“Do you always do as you’re told?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Ragnold is your master, is he not? You are in his service and do his dirty work.” She put her hand on his bare chest. “Set me free and I could reward you. Return my sight to me and help me escape.”

Maljandra’s hand cupped her right breast and he caressed it gently. “You want me to set you free?” he whispered in her ear.

“Yes, I beg you, let me go.”

He squeezed, but the pain she felt in her breast was nothing to the pain she felt throughout her body. It twisted within her, eating into every part of her, leaving nothing unscathed by its sharp teeth. A scream tore from her, leaving her throat raw, followed by another. She screamed more than she’d ever done before.

“And who would free me from the wrath of Hades?” he asked. His breath was hot against her ear. “You think me as weak as any mortal man? Do you think the temptation of a little dryad would easily turn me? Know this, foolish woman. You’ll remain blind till I take you to the temple. I’ll restore your sight long enough for you to see Ragnold’s gauntlet rip out your heart.”

In spite of the pain wrenching through her, Flora spat, praying she spat in the mage’s face, but he didn’t strike or hurt her again. The pain stopped as instantaneously as it began and Maljandra put his hand on Melinoe’s necklace. His hand hesitated against the dark circle, as if he sensed some power within it. A low growl emanated from him and she winced as he wrenched it from her neck.

Once her body was prepared, he led her from the pool and left her alone. From the other chamber the sound of fabric on skin reached her and she guessed he was drying his body and dressing. He soon returned.

“Kneel,” Maljandra commanded. The urge to run gripped her, but some invisible force pushed her to her knees. She couldn’t sense where in the room they were, but she smelled smoke and heard the crackling of a fire. “You were supposed to be branded this morning as a concubine, but now the brand will be the mark of Hades.”

Again, the urge to run overwhelmed her, but Maljandra’s magic was tighter than any bond. A hiss filled the room, followed by the roar of flames. Flora recognized the sound from the slave market in Bartom. It was the sound of a branding iron being turned in the fire. She closed her eyes tightly and her throat clicked when she tried to swallow.Gods, my throat is so dry!

“They say to be branded is one of the most intense pains known to man.”

Flora began to shake violently. She wanted to turn Dero’s ring again but she couldn’t move her arms. The heat of the iron warmed her skin as it passed by her face. Maljandra was teasing her, letting her feel its heat before the dreadful moment.

Her heart seemed frozen in her chest and tears of anguish fell down her face.

“Very good,” said Maljandra. “You are tamed at last. But that will not save you now.”

When the branding iron was pressed into her skin, a searing pain such as she’d never known before washed over her. The smell of scorched flesh filled the air and her scream echoed off the walls. Her anguish died in her throat, as she fell, mercifully, unconscious to the floor.


Iris Woodbury is an English author born in London, England who was later thrust into the bosom of the United States. She lives very happily in the beautiful state of Maryland where she hopes to stay forever. Follow her on FB at or tweet away to your heart’s content to @IrisWoodbury.  Feed her chocolate. She likes that.

I suck

This may be my shortest post but I am apologizing to anyone who stopped by expecting a sat spanks post this weekend. I signed up and completely forgot. No excuse, but I do apologize and will endeavor to never do that again! 

In other news the lovely and talented Ms. Patty Devlin created this wonderful image, I just had to share!!



Release Day! Or, the post when I tried to for an hour to use GIFS

Imagine Fireworks!

Imagine Trumpets!

You will have to, since I couldn’t get the GIFs.

What can I do, you ask?

Tell you about my latest release, Protected by the Knight!

Romance book cover for ebook

#3 in Loving the Knight

Sir Edward Caldwell is not the type of knight to entertain notions of love. He has seen how little it takes to break a vow, and refuses to ever end up the fool. So when he’s ordered to protect a visiting princess, he seizes the opportunity to add a royal notch to his bedpost. What he never expected was that the princess would be just as much of a player as he is.

Princess Lotte has mere weeks before her arranged marriage is to take place and, despite her personal guard’s wishes, plans to spend that time experiencing everything life has to offer. Luckily, fate sends her just the knight for the job. But when she finds herself over his knee, with her heart on her sleeve, she realizes she’s playing a dangerous game – without knowing the rules.

Need to know what you’re getting into? Here is a blurb!

Chapter One

“Of course, dove. You are my everything. Without you there is no meaning.” Edward performed his lines with the perfection of a seasoned actor. He gripped the supple cheeks of the vixen straddling him. She bit her lower lip, an amazing actress by her own right, as her bright blue eyes burned. They both knew the parts they needed to play.

“What if my husband finds out?” she whispered as if their love had robbed her of enough air to speak at a normal level.

Edward let his hands slide up her torso where he held a breast in each palm. His cock hardened at the dessert that was to come. He’d sampled this treat before and knew it was worth the theatricality required to taste it. “Let him find out,” Edward hissed, his lips vibrated against her neck. “Let the world find out!”

She wailed in longing, their scene had reached its climax and now it was time for Edward to reach his. His cock celebrated its near victory. His hands joined the party as he lifted the sultry siren up enough to delve into her silky folds.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Someone knocked urgently at his door. Edward turned his head from the sound and lifted his hips. The woman froze, wide eyes transfixed on the very door Edward was happy to ignore.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Piss off!”

The woman shrieked. “What if it’s my husband?”

Moments from glory, Edward clucked his tongue and shook his head softly. “No, no,” he placed a soothing hand on her cheek. “I’m sure it is nothing import—”

“Urgent message from the King!” came the voice from the other side of the door.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Edward bit the words out, sliding from beneath the beautiful, blonde filly. He watched her slide back and out of sight before yanking the door open, not bothering to cover himself. “What is it?”

A young, very serious looking messenger glanced once at the parchment he held before speaking at a volume loud enough for the entire castle to hear. “The King requests your discreet presence at a secret—”

“Excuse me,” Edward interrupted the messenger, leaning one arm up and against the doorway, “if it is a secret, should you be screaming?”

The messenger remained, his mouth wide open, his forehead crinkling as if he was pondering life’s greatest questions. Edward looked past the goldfish and spied a smirking figure lurking in the shadows on the other side of the path.

“I am quite busy,” Edward said to the figure in the shadows.

Caldwell leaned forward and crossed his arms. “Not anymore.”

For the rest of the free sample, or a chance to buy please visit:

Blushing Books


Barnes and Noble-Nook

Happy Memorial Day Weekend!!

My Accidental Night in a Sex Motel OR The Post Where I Truly Hope They Washed Those Sheets

Stuff happened, as it does. Through negligence and manipulation, through ignorance and good intentions—the shape of the bricks didn’t matter as much as the direction of the road, and that road lead me out of South Korea, quick-like (thank you, Allison!).

There are many steps between attempting to leave a country and accidentally staying the night in a room that offers tiny complimentary cock rings next to their tiny packs of complimentary coffee. First of all, when it comes to travelling, I am a bit of a worrier.  If I am meant to catch a bus that comes at 14:00, you better believe I am at the station at 13:00 with my ticket or fare (the same fare I’ve checked and rechecked) in my hand.

So, when I frantically booked a flight for my husband and I to get the heck out of dodge and I realized we had a noon takeoff I went into crisis mode.


We had to get to the airport from a location on the other side of the country! We were talking taxis, trains and subways. We were talking relying on us not missing anything or nothing being late. The only safe option in my mind was for us to arrive at the airport during the wee hours of the morning, snooze a few (10) hours and waking refreshed and more importantly, on time. I knew this would work. I’d seen that Tom Hanks movie.

(It should be noted that at this point my husband recognized that fire in my eyes that told him I was sure that mattress would fit in that space, was positive my hair would look great that color and that there was nothing short of a court order that could convince me that one guy wasn’t the lead in that one movie and he kindly went along with everything)

At first, the plan came together, well—as planned. I made my silent goodbyes, snuck out under the cover of reluctant deception and completed the first few legs of our journey that brought us all the way to the train station. A station that, and this will become important later, was relatively in the middle of nowhere. Armed with my less than fluent Korean I asked for a train ticket. I was responded by a man who spoke perfect Korean, but that is as far as I will go in complimenting him (side note: I have since declared this man as the last person I will dislike in Korea).

Even though there were trains running for 6 more hours, not a single one had space for the two of us. Mr. Perfect Korean told us we could get on the first train the next day, the same one that departed a scant 9 hours from that moment in time. Did I mention that at that time I’d demanded we leave so early that I had made us basically homeless?

Herculean is the word I will use to describe the effort it must’ve taken my husband to smile and reply, “It is only nine hours.”

Fast forward five more hours. I’m tired, husband is tired, we’ve been stared at by hundreds of people including Mr. Perfect Korean who walked pass us many times in the night and gave a look of what I mistook as understanding sympathy. We didn’t care though, we had less time left to wait than we had waited. The worst was over.

The last train of the night came and left. Mr. Perfect Korean walked by us on his way home. I offered a small smile and he offered the stoic Korean stare. Then we were informed that the train station was about to close.

For three hours.

(I could go into a rant about how Mr. PK knew what our tickets were for, knew what we were attempting to do camped in that corner and still made no attempt at telling us the station closed, but I won’t. I will choose to simply dislike him instead.)

I was okay with sleeping on a bench in the station but I could not fathom waiting outside, in a dress, in the predawn hours, for three hours.

I didn’t cry, not in a Herculean way, but impressive all the same. The same security guard who mimed that we were being kicked out offered us two words and one gesture of hope, “Motel. Walking.” As he pointed to what looked like a dark hill.

Fifteen minutes later we drag our eight bags down a manicured street to a black-windowed  building with a bright, multicolored LED sign that said: S* Motel


Maybe it was the stress, the exhaustion, or perhaps I am just considerably unobservant. Whatever it was, the only thought I had as I negotiated a reasonable price (in my not so fluent Korean) for my husband and I to stay in a bed for a few hours was that we were very lucky. The price was fair and to be honest, the elevator, hallway and room were straight up swanky.


I thought it was weird that there wasn’t a real wall that separated the bath and the bedroom and that the tissues were placed directly by the bed, despite the many other surfaces it could’ve been placed, but I wasn’t huddled outside so the whole thing was a win.

A few hours later my alarm goes off and I feel weirdly refreshed. We start putting in contacts and brushing teeth when I notice the complimentary items…


All the usual suspects: Gel, lotion, coffee, tea, condom, desensitizing gel, cock ring…

…the foam pad by the Jacuzzi bath that offered a lounging view of the bed and shower…


Huge bathroom, with viewing lounging space.

…the presence of mirrors and massaging beds…



…and the realization was cemented when I checked the TV guide to see the only programming offered is of the erotic nature.

I proclaim to my husband, “This is a sex motel!” At which point we can both only think one thing, okay two.

One, I hope they clean the sheets.


Opportunity wasted.

A Special Visit by Leigh Smith!!

This week I am veering from broadcasting my dismal paint skills long enough to host Leigh Smith in celebration of her brand new book, The Cowboy has her Back!

leighsmith Blurb

After her Navy SEAL husband is killed by a drunk driver, widowed Mikela ‘Mickey’ Chandler comes to stay with her brother-in-law and sister, Becky.  While out riding, her horse takes off at breakneck speed and Mickey loses her grip on one of the reins.  Fortunately, for her, local rancher Hank Caldwell is on hand to save the day…and the two embark on a passionate and stormy relationship.

It’s not long before Mickey falls head over heels in love with the tall, handsome rancher, but having been hurt in a previous relationship, Hank is guarded and cautious where his feelings are concerned.  There are other problems too, in that Hank is used to being in control while Mickey is an independent woman in charge of her life.  Their relationship teeters on the edge as the two fight for control.

Are they too stubborn and set in their ways to make things work, or will love find a way.


Mickey told Hank to choose the spot.  He picked Rowdy’s Roadhouse, a restaurant on the outskirts of Williston and made famous by regular appearances of Rowdy’s Rangers, a Texas band now famous but discovered at the restaurant by an affluent patron.  Since then, whenever the band was on tour and in the approximate area, they made it a point to drop in and play a set or two. Rowdy’s was a popular place and there was quite a line  waiting for a table when they arrived. Luckily for them, many of the waiting patrons were large parties and they moved up the list quickly since there was just the two of them.

Mickey had pumped her sister for any information on Hank, but she didn’t learn much. Becky said he had only returned to Williston and let it go at that.  Apparently, the Circle C was one of the biggest and most successful ranches in the area.  In addition to cattle and horses, their holdings included vineyards and almond orchards.  Hank had a couple of brothers and a sister and both brothers worked on the ranch.  His sister married an attorney and moved to Washington DC.  His parents, were still involved in the running of the ranch but based on the gossip around town were gradually turning it over to their sons, Hank, Dave and Randy.

Hank and Mickey weren’t sitting at the table long before people started stopping by. All of them welcomed him home; and expressed their hope he stayed this time.  If people ever stopped coming by the table, she planned on finding out more about Hank Caldwell.  With his tousled sandy blonde hair, bronzed skin and bright blue eyes, fine lines crinkling the edges of his eyes and mouth, he was good looking enough to be an actor or model. He was a man comfortable in his own skin and used to being in command, and it showed. Dressed in dark blue jeans, sharply creased but soft looking and weathered, a checked long sleeved shirt and well-worn boots that were clean and polished, he was one handsome cowboy and she was sure he set many a heart aflutter, hers among them.  The steady stream of greeters slowed down and she was just about to ask him about himself when another couple plopped themselves down in the seat on the other side of their booth.

“What are you doing here, this is most unusual for you?” the man said to Hank. Mickey took a good look at Dave and could see a resemblance but Hank was the winner. “Mickey is taking me to dinner for saving her ass this afternoon.”

“Mickey, meet my brother Dave and this is his, ‘what are you Dani, his lover, friend, mistress, wife; what other labels might there be?’”

“No need for such sarcasm or meanness, Hank” she purred at him.

“I see not much has changed,” Dave said to Hank. Mickey was surprised that Dave took Hank’s disparaging remarks about Dani so well, she half expected fisticuffs to break out at any moment.

“Oh, a lot has changed.  She’s with you now and I only wish you the best of luck and hope to hell you never have to leave town, because we have one more brother.”

“That’s enough, Hank,” Dave told him.

“You came and sat down here, so if you don’t want to hear anymore, then I suggest you find yourself another table.”

Dave gave Dani a slight push out of the booth.  As they walked away, Mickey spoke to Hank.  “It’s none of my business, but I have to ask.  I can guess, but what the hell was that all about?”

‘You’re right Mickey,  I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t want to ruin what’s left of the evening by hashing through things better left untouched. Maybe if we ever get to know each other better, I’ll explain.”

“Okay, but before they popped in, I wanted to ask what brought you back to Williston and what took you away in the first place.  If the two things are tied together, I’ll understand if you don’t want to go there.”

“They are and they aren’t.”

“I left because when I was in college I was recruited by Homeland Security.  My college major was criminal justice and after September 11th I was all gung ho to go out and protect my country.  When HS came on campus, they offered me a chance to use my education and satisfy my passion; I took them up on their offer.  So, to answer your question, I worked for Homeland Security.  I’m not active right now.”

“So are you back in Williston to stay?”

“I’m in Williston.  Life changes on a dime and in HS I learned to live one day at a time, that’s what I’m doing.  So enough about me, let’s talk about you.”

“Shall I start at birth and just go forward or is there a particular place you want me to start?”

“A smart mouth, I should have guessed from earlier today.  Start anywhere you like?”

“I told you earlier my sister Becky had twins and I came to help. Once the twins were on a regular schedule, I was beginning to feel underfoot but the holidays were on the horizon,  and she asked me to stay through them at least.  It didn’t take much convincing, spending the holidays with loved ones or alone. I find I’m ready for a change and want to be closer to family. Becky said the district is looking for teachers so I’ve decided to apply for a position. Back in San Diego, there are too many memories around every corner.  I’m a widow.  My husband was a Navy Seal that, believe it or not, was not killed in the line of duty but by a drunk driver. Barry returned from a mission and was on his way home when it happened.  They haven’t found the driver, and I doubt they ever will.  It occurred about 2:30 am, and no one has come forward with any information.  It’s been two years, so I don’t hold out any hope.  It doesn’t matter though, it will not bring Barry back.  Anyway, it’s time for a change.  Becky is my only sibling so living close to her and my nieces makes this the logical place to settle.”

“So if you get the job, you’ll settle here in Williston, or at least in the area?”

“Teaching job or not, I’ll settle here.  With Barry’s pension, I don’t have any financial worries.  I still have loose ends in Southern California but nothing that will keep me there for long.”

“Good to know.”

Where can you buy this lovely way to spend a lazy weekend? Click one of the links below!




About Leigh Smith 

My husband and I travel the western United States where I indulge my love for words, both reading and writing. I write what I like to read which are romantic stories containing strong dominant men and confident, feisty women. The relationships are always loving and challenging. Conflict is often resolved with either a threat of a spanking or an actual spanking or two, either erotic or otherwise.

Cowboys and westerns are my favorite genre, however my characters, although fantasy, are sometimes based on people I’ve come across in my lifetime.  Truth can be stranger than fiction and although the stories are fantasy, once in a while there is a kernal of real lease embedded in the situations.

If the story doesn’t contain a happy ending, it is left open ended for the reader to come to their own conclusions.

That’s the great thing about fiction, it can be whatever you want it to be.

There you have it. If you didn’t have plans or are looking for a way to get out of them, thank Sadie, cause she just thrust this in yo face!

You’re welcome



“Affording the time to Write” or “How not to Become a Couch Troll”

A second post about money, Sadie? Isn’t that a bit gauche?

1. This isn’t that post and 2. I just barely know what gauche means.

This isn’t the post that puts a magnifying glass on writing full time compared to writing after your full time. Though, now that we are talking about that, how fun would being a full time writer be? I imagine there are some grass is greener moments. I’m sure there are times when full time writers wish they had a second source of income to take some of the pressure off of their current projects, but in my mind, they are experiencing that stress from the comfort of their home, in their pajamas.

In fact, when I imagine myself as a full time writer I see endless pots of coffee, in a room that is always at the perfect temperature and has hidden speakers in the wall (don’t ASK ME who installed them I do not have to imagine details!) that pump out exactly what I want to hear at that exact moment. In other words, I imagine something like this:

Blog How I picture

I am relaxed happy and have huge bewbs

Though, knowing me and my love of messy buns and well, messy everything, I would probably look more like this:


I computer on my keyboard with the keys

Moving on…

Writing is a solitary sport and one of my personal, greatest concerns regarding my writing is allowing it to lull me even further into my introverted, quasi-anti-social bubble. BIC (butt-in-chair) time is important, but it is equally important to go outside once in a while. If only to make sure the sun still rises in the morning and the birds still sing.

So, without further ado, I give you my three steps for affording writing time OR my three steps for not letting myself become a living room-gremlin-that-hisses-at-the-phone-when-it-rings-and-has-no-idea-if-it-is-2am-or-pm-because-I-haven’t-showered-in-four-days-and-there-ain’t-no-way-I’m-opening-the-curtains.

1. Prioritize

For me there are things I would like to do, things I need to do and things I will just do without even thinking about them and then four hours later I realize I haven’t done anything but watch The Voice auditions. Prioritizing makes the next two steps that much easier. Like Professor Moody should’ve said, BE COGNIZANT of where your time is going. It can fly by and no matter how fun it is to watch hours of all turn auditions, that doesn’t put words on the page.

Blog_Voice logo

 2. Be flexible

Treating writing like your day job (whether it is or isn’t) is a great idea. But it is important to make time when those small, unplanned moments arise. It can be annoying when your mother calls out of the blue just to chat or when your buddy suddenly springs an outing on you. Maybe you don’t go most the time, or even half the time. But maybe go once. 🙂

3. Don’t stress the small words

Yeah, yeah every word is important but as long as you know you can make it up, it is okay to maybe not reach that day’s goal. Especially if there is a really pretty sunset, or your significant other needs you to watch the no cry challenge with them on Youtube, or if your puppy is being extra cute and demands to be instagramed.

I think my three steps can also boil down to one simple point:

Remember that real people exist, they are important, they are often lovely and they should be appreciated.

She works hard for the–oh nevermind.

I cannot believe that anyone who completes the process of thinking up an idea, writing the idea down (however long it becomes), editing that idea and then opening that idea to strangers for them to ridicule does it because they expect to get rich. Really, just from a cost/benefit stand point, the costs are often high whereas the benefits can seem nonexistent. So, yeah, writers don’t normally write just for the money. You’ll notice my use of “just” because while it may not be the only reason or even the driving reason, making money is a reason (and feels damn good).

So, how much money can a writer expect to make?

Anyone with Google (or Bing if you are freaky like that) can type in the query, “How much money do writers make?” and receive page after page of articles, blog posts and forum posts that explain in excruciatingly vague as well as painfully specific detail just how very little an average author actually makes (on average :D).

These sites seem to glory in being the bearers of bad news. They post with bold headlines, bright colors, pictures, even graphs. As if they need graphs. Really, they could simply substitute their graphs with huge frowny faces and I would glean the same information from them as if they’d presented me with colored bars labeled to fit in a large rectangle.

However, as I am never one to miss a chance at making a graph, I…made my own graph(s). ((a little anti climactic there at the end))

green circleThis pie chart represents the amount that googling “How much money do writers make?” depresses me. (Note: this pie is entirely filled in, indicating a clear 100% depression amount)

blue circleThis pie chart represents how many fucks I will give regarding the results from googling, “How much money do writers make?” as I move on with my writing career. (Note: This pie is empty, indicating zero fucks.)

pieThis is pie.

So, in conclusion, I cannot draw pie.

Also, writers can’t write for the money. It cannot be the only reason a writer writes. So don’t open our conversations with, “Oh, you’re a writer, you know only 1 out of 30 billion writers make enough to quit their day jobs right?” because 1. I know and 2. You won’t get any pie if you do.

And I make way better pie than I draw.

Sat Spanks!


It’s been a little over a week since Possessed by the Knight was released. I’m pleased to announce I have not fallen over from anxiety yet. There were a few close calls 😀

This weeks sentences come chapter 2. Kalista is at the tournament doing her best to ignore Caldwell when his brother, Edward (who is on the field as a participant), decides to shake things up a bit.

Edward sidestepped so that he stood in front of Kalista. “My beautiful Lady, yours is the only favor I desire. Would you do me the honor, Lady Kalista of allowing me to carry your token?”

Kalista slunk down in her chair and clutched her arms tightly across the front of her body as if hugging herself. While Caldwell seemed preoccupied with making Kalista fit in, Edward insisted on singling her out.

Georgianna gently but persistently shook Kalista’s arm.

“Will my Lady refuse me in front of all these people?”

Kalista was almost positive she would.

Book Summary: Kalista has gone from rags to riches. She preferred rags – at least she understood that world. Fate has turned things upside down and she needs someone to cling to, someone like the powerful Knight Caldwell. But when Caldwell pretends she doesn’t exist and his brother comes calling in times of trouble, whom can she trust? Whose love will prove true in the end?

Romance book cover for ebook

You can purchase at the Blushing Books Website, Nook or Kindle

Please continue on the path of naughty with this link:

Powered by Linky Tools

Click here to enter your link and view this Linky Tools list…