Very excited! Aside from the great reviews which I appreciate SO much! There’s other stuff that’s happening. Reader clubs are putting my “Surrender” stories on their lists to read. (I love that) I’ve gotten emails from enthusiastic readers about both Reclaimed and Reluctant Surrender. More than ninety percent of the readers who emailed want to see Jo and Ted’s story and that’s coming. (It’s with my editor now) and it’s this story I’ve been given an extra special opportunity to do something creative with to share with my readers. I’m so excited!!!! I can’t tell you all of it yet because that would spoil the surprise, but I can tell you it’ s WAY better than just a book video! I’m super happy over all of this.
If you haven’t checked out my Goodreads page here’s the link. There’s reviews on my published stories and quotes from my next Surrender book (Jo and Ted’s story) on there too. Oh and here’s my next Dom hero, Ted Basel…
Here’s an excerpt:
Ted may not have wanted to talk about this but Jo did.
“You’re not going to walk away from me again.” Jo hastily skipped to catch up behind him while simultaneously tucking in her blouse. She nearly slipped on the marble floor twice in her haste keeping up.
“I’m not walking away from you. I’m heading to my office. You’re free to follow. Obviously, because you are.”
She skidded to a halt in front of his desk. Slapping the hair away from her forehead, she glared at him. With him seated in his big office chair he looked like a king on a throne. “I want you to fix me.”
He leaned back. “Fix you? The only person that can fix you is you. If someone told you differently they lied.”
She kicked off her high-heels as her feet were numb beyond the point of pain. “I’m broken. You broke me.” He stared up at her and even now that busted part of her thrilled at the sight of him. She had to fight every urge she had to drop her gaze and behave for him.
“We’re all broken. We all have cracks. It’s not about making it through life in one piece it’s about narrowing the gap between the fissures so we don’t shatter.”
She stabbed a finger in his direction. “You see? It’s precisely this kind of talk that wears me down. You’re too…”
His firm look as he eyed her finger distracted her and she lost her train of thought.
“Hasn’t anyone told you before that it’s rude to point? Lower that finger.”
“All right!” He quirked an annoying brow and she knew why. “All right,” she said more reasonably. Scooping up her shoes, she hugged them to her chest. “I just want to be the way I was before. I need to be that way. I have to be strong. With no crying. I don’t want to cry. I never cry.”
His lip twitched. “I noticed.”
“That’s not the least bit funny you know.” She wasn’t going to let him off the hook until he made things better. She couldn’t face Anjay like this and now that Anjay was back and getting awards for being an upstanding guy she was going to have to. “I want you to change me back.”
He huffed out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. “You think you’re not the same person and I had something to do with that?”
“I know I’m not the same person and you have everything to do with it.”
His arrogant gaze swept her from top to bottom. “You look the same to me.”
She almost dropped her shoes. “I look the…I look the same? That’s all you have to say to me?” His casual shrug made her gasp. “Jo Nehr of two months ago wouldn’t have shed a tear. Not one, you spell-casting mother fucker.”
Tsk, tsk. “Guttersnipe language, princess.”
“Ugh.” She grasped a shoe in each hand and plunked them down on his desk leaning over them. “I can’t be this blubbering mass of hormonal crapiness right now.”
“I thought the session went well today.”
“Session? This isn’t therapy.”
“For you it is.”
Her eyes narrowed and it was the first time in her whole life she abused a pair of Monola’s when she strangled the patent leather. “If you or the other dickwad did what I requested you to do, it might have been good. I wanted to be hurt not – not – not swept off my fucking feet with pleasure, asshole.”
One minute she was holding her own, killing her shoes and speaking so succinctly that spittle was spraying his desk and the next her whole body was wiping it up as he dragged her across the surface. She shot over the width like a hockey puck on newly polished ice.
“Let me go.” She struggled but it was no use. In two seconds flat she was slung over his lap. Head toward the floor and ass in the air. “Don’t.”
Too late, he spanked her with three hard smacks. She squirmed and tried to use the one shoe she still had hold of as a weapon, but he wrestled it from her grip and gave her another smack.
She didn’t halt because he sounded mad, it was more because he sounded amused. She hated to think he was getting a kick out of this when she was close to dying inside.
“That’s better. Now, do I need to remind you about your hell?”
Blood rushed to her head while she admired the make of his shoes. The last thing she thought of before he spanked her again was the bastard had great taste in footwear. That stung her more than the smack did.