Autumn Wild is traveling west from Boston, in search of her brother. When she wakes up with a naked man in her bed, she’s faced with the choice of marriage or prison. She decides to marry the scoundrel, Pinkerton man turned saloon owner, Holden “Tae” Wyndd. She can always end it when she finds her brother, Patrick, after all, since the marriage didn’t take place in the Church.
But things don’t always go as planned, and Autumn later agrees to be married by a priest in upholding her Irish traditions. Can she and Tae make it work, though, when they discover who the mysterious co-owner of the saloon really is?
Publisher’s Note: This steamy historical western romance is packed with action, adventure, mystery, and contains graphic scenes with a theme of power exchange. If this is offensive to you, please do not read it.
“Holden, mightin’ ye be teachin’ me better with a spanking?” she asked. Asked him for it, like he said she would. Like she found she could after the first time he made her.
Taking her hand, he pulled her back to his right side. “You understand you’ll not just feel my hand tonight?” Her eyes went to the wall behind him. He kept a rack over the chaise lounge of canes, all well-crafted and polished, with various thicknesses and flexibility. When she looked at him again, she nodded. “This is a problem I don’t want again,” he said and, pulling her forward, guided her in place over his knee. The act might have confused her, as when he did have cause to cane her, he’d have her put her hands on the lounge and bend over. “Don’t think this will be over quick, sweetness. We’ll get to that, but we’ll start with something more… intimate. Keep your hands and feet down, Autumn. And don’t make me tell you again.” With that, he raised his arm to shoulder height and brought his palm down hard on her arse. The first swat forced a gasp from her lips, but he gave her no time to try to respond more as he raised his hand again and brought it down with equal force. Her skin colored quickly, but he’d learned early on, it just did and that it was no indication of how well punished she was. He raised his hand again, and when her first cry broke free, he started raining down smack after smack. He didn’t let up or miss a stroke, even as Autumn began to twist and kick and even reach back to block him. He didn’t remind her to keep her hands down, only lowered his target to the top of her thighs until she figured it out on her own and snatched her hand back to clutch his ankle.