One more day until the release of (drum roll!) the brand-spanking-new Masters of the Castle boxed set, When the Gavel Falls

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For those of you who still aren’t aware, this boxed set includes five never before released stories situated in the Masters of the Castle world. That’s right, five brand new stories by some of your favorite spanking authors and all for the incredibly low price of $9.99. You’ve met three of them: Maren (me), Tabitha Black, and Maggie Ryan. That means there’s still two authors left to introduce before the launch party to celebrate our books comes out this Saturday. Come and hang out with us! We’ll be giving away free copies of the entire box set, free books donated by each of the authors, a $50 and $25 Amazon or B&N gift cards, and a brand new Kindle Fire! So if you haven’t done it already, friend me on Facebook and join us this weekend for the When the Gavel Falls Masters of the Castle release party! You don’t have to do anything. You don’t need an invite. Just click on that link Saturday morning from 9-11 am EST and you’re in. 🙂

Now, onto the next author. Meet Darling Adams, author of Punishing Portia.

“I need a paper bag,” Abbie moaned as the final cracks of wood on skin taking place within Master Marshall’s office died away, leaving only frantic sobs, and then sniffles, and eventually nothing but ominous silence to fill up the nook alongside the only two authors left sitting on those hard-backed chairs. She rocked, her head in her hands. “I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.”

Darling reached over to pat her on the back, but though she might hide it better, those had been some pretty scary sounds coming from the other side of that door and she was nervous. It wasn’t helping matters any that Masters were slowly beginning to fill up the hallway around them. Jackson was sitting in the chair Maggie had just vacated and which, considering what she had just heard, she probably wouldn’t be able to enjoy again for at least a day. Sam and Kade—god, how was it possible for the man to be that devastating to look at?—had been joined by the exotically dark and unsmiling Master Alan. Another man, dressed only in black leather breeches, black armbands and a black leather mask, was even now striding down the hall, heading right for them. Every other part of him was taut, trim and layered in muscle that flexed in hypnotically ominous ways with each long-legged step. He looked like an executioner. All he needed was an axe and Darling would have happily joined Abbie in her rapid descent into trembling, gasping, teary-eyed hysterics.

She wrapped her arm tighter around her friend’s shoulders, hugging her as close into her side as she could when the executioner plopped himself down in the chair on Abbie’s other side. Crossing his legs, one hand resting lightly on his knee, he looked at them. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t speaking, and yet he seemed to be…looming.

“Stop it,” Darling said tightly. “You don’t have anything better to do than scare people?”

“Not today,” the executioner replied.

From across the hall, both Sam pushed off the wall and came over to take Tabby’s empty seat. “You’re not scared,” he observed. Stretching his long legs out before him, he crossed his ankles and made himself comfortable. “Don’t you think that might, perhaps, be the wrong attitude to take, all things considering?”

Darling hiked her chin and hoped her trembling didn’t show. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, either,” Abbie said, trying her best to curl again Darling’s shoulder. “Why is he being so mean in there?”

Leaning forward in his chair to pin them both with a stern, if vaguely smiling, look, Jackson braced his elbows on his knees. Darling didn’t at all like the way he was rubbing his hands together. The vibes emanating from him were extremely dominant ones and as much as she didn’t want it to, it was rousing in her a very submissive reaction.

“Why don’t you both think really, really hard?” he suggested, his voice as low as a growl. “Maybe you’ll come up with the reason for why he has to be so ‘mean’.”

The door to Master Marshall’s office swung open, spilling the sound of soft hiccups and sniffles out into the hall. When the blond Master of the Masters stepped out, Abbie’s hands clutched at Darling’s arms.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please don’t go.”

Darling wasn’t sure she had much of a choice at this point. As much as she didn’t want to receive the same sort of attention Maren, Tabby and Maggie had, the need to just get it over with suddenly reared within her.

Hoping to calm her friend—as hopeless as that hope surely was—she patted Abbie’s back and shoulders one last time and then she disengaged herself from her clinging arms. She stood. “Let’s get this over with,” she muttered as she walked past Marshall and into his office.

The imposing Master Marshall followed her and, just before the door closed softly behind them both, Darling heard Abbie break down completely, wailing, “I need a teddy bear!”

The look Darling gave Master Marshall then was anything but submissive. She knew it was a mistake the minute she did it, because she saw it in his eyes, the dominant in him taking instant notice and rising to the challenge. Too late, she averted her eyes. What was she even doing here? She could be at home right now, watching TV and folding laundry. But no. We just got invited to the Castle, Maren had said, and like big ol’ dummies they’d jumped in the car without a second thought. She shook her head.

“Take a seat,” Master Marshall said, directing her with a wave of his hand and a touch at her shoulder to one of two empty chairs in front of his desk.

Darling went, but every step made her feel like the condemned on her way to the gallows. She passed the implement cabinet. She noted the crossed canes mounted on the wall beyond Master Marshall’s throne-line office chair. This whole room was a gallows, she realized, complete with Maren and Tabby standing red-assed in one corner and Maggie sniffling morosely in another, the oval splotches of a hairbrush spanking covering her entire backside and the tops of her thighs in varying shades of painful red.

Surreptitiously pulling her chair a little further away from him (for all the good that did), Darling sat down (while she still could).

“Which one are you?” Marshall asked, taking the chair beside hers.

“Darling Adams.” Painfully aware of being the sole focus of his piercing blue stare, she kept her gaze firmly on her hands in her lap, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t quite keep from fidgeting. Her fingers kept picking at one another. It was impossible to hold them still. “I’m also known as Renee Rose. When I’m Darling Adams, I write BDSM, heavy on the sex. When I’m Renee Rose, I’m more interested in domestic discipline, particularly historical.”

“Stop picking at your fingers,” he told her, and she did. “Look at me.”

She sighed, but eventually she did that too.

“What made you want to come to the Castle?”

Darling couldn’t resist casting a frown back over her shoulder. “Misplaced friendship.”

In the corner, the recipient of that frown turned around. “Hey,” Maren said, slightly hurt.

“I am not going to tell you again,” Marshall said, with a frown of his own.

Maren faced the corner again, but she did so muttering.

At the end of his patience, Master Marshall stood up. “Excuse me.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Darling said, already wishing she could take it back, but picking up the hairbrush off his desk, he headed for the corner anyway. She couldn’t watch. She really wished she couldn’t hear it either. A series of quick smacks and yelps sang out.

“But I didn’t say anything!” Tabby protested, and yet that didn’t stop her cries from following in conjunction with another half-dozen sternly delivered swats. They were both left squirming in place, their noses to the wall.

“One more word,” Marshall warned on his way back to Darling and his waiting chair, “and all three of you will take turns across my knee for a paddling you won’t soon forget.”

No sooner had he sat, however, than did they hear Maren’s soft-spoken, “Woo hoo.”

“Oh, seriously?!” Tabby exploded, snapping around to look at her in disbelief.

Marshall stood up again. “Excuse me,” he calmly apologized. Picking up the hairbrush again, he rolled up his sleeve and headed back to their corner.

“But I was kidding,” Maren said, and then again, slightly more panicked, “I was kidding!”

“I wasn’t,” Master Marshall growled, and then the room exploded in shouting, foot stamping, and the crisp—smack! snap! whack!—of the hairbrush biting into bare bottom flesh.

“But I didn’t say anything!” Tabby wailed, but the spankings in that corner must have been a package deal because he didn’t stop until they were both gasping, groaning and hardly able to stand still for the flames he’d lit in their backsides.

Darling didn’t move, she barely even breathed, until Master Marshall came back to her. Setting the hairbrush back on his desk—far too easily within his reach for her peace of mind—he adjusted his chair so that it faced hers before he sat. Taking hold of the arms of hers, without her getting up, he turned her around so she had no choice but to look directly at him. Her stomach tightened, a tangle of knots that made her quiver all over the instant he trapped her in the unwavering blue of his gaze.

“What,” he asked again, in soft and silken tones, “made you want to come to the Castle?”

Looking from him to the hairbrush and back again, Darling dropped the attitude. “Everybody wants to come to the Castle,” she offered meekly. He stared, waiting. “I…I wanted a place I could try out some fantasies I hadn’t yet explored.”

“You were the only one who did not involve members of my staff in your story. What you did, I think, was worse. You invaded the privacy of two of my guests. Before I decide what to do with you, I would like to know the reason why.”

She dropped her gaze, picking at her fingers now in earnest and stopped only when he tucked a finger under her chin and, with gentle force, brought her gaze back to his. Swallowing hard, she said, “I don’t know. I-I guess I was pretty interested in Pet Play to start with. Mainly because of the idea of not being able to talk…and of course, the butt plug tail didn’t hurt, you know?”

“Stop picking at your fingers,” he told her again. “I’m not going to be happy if you make your cuticles bleed.”

She looked at her hands, a tiny flicker of panic cutting through her when she noticed how red and raw the edges of two fingers were already. She folded her hands together, hoping to hide the evidence before he saw it. His expression told her it was already too late for that too.

“Continue,” he coaxed. “What else appealed to you?”

Darling had to work to drag her thoughts off the state of her fingers and back onto the conversation. “Um…well, I guess I also loved the idea of adding some “risk” factor to what is consensual BDSM. Because I love the heat of non-con, I created the scenario in which David, the top has a real-life ax to grind with his purchased slave Portia.”

“Yes, I read about that.” Leaning back in his seat, he tipped his head, regarding her closely. “So, were I to allow you a weekend pass to experience what it is we have to offer, is it the pet program you’d be most interested in trying?”

He was giving her a weekend pass? Darling blinked at him twice. He’d spanked the others, why was he giving her a pass? She cleared her throat. “I, um…I don’t know. I wouldn’t mind trying all of them, I guess. Maybe I’d start with the Little Maids?”

“I’m sure I can arrange that,” Master Marshall said smoothly. “Is there a particular Master you’d like to be assigned to?”

Oh, no way…

Darling shifted in her chair, hardly trusting what he was saying. “Um…” She had to clear her throat a second time. “M-Master Kade? Or maybe the twins? I really liked Tabitha Black’s scorchingly hot story about them.”

A corner of Marshall’s mouth curled into a sardonic smile. “Yes, I’m sure you did. How about your experience level? Is there a particular kink you’ve tried, but that you would like to now that you’re here?”

“Pet play and ageplay,” she said, without hesitation.

His eyes never left hers as the other corner of his mouth began to curl. “Have you a favorite implement? Or perhaps, a not so favorite one?”

“Don’t do it!” whispered out in stereo from the corner in which Maren and Tabby were standing.

Marshall held up a shushing finger, which they couldn’t see because they hadn’t turned around, and then stared at her, waiting.

It was a lot like smothering oneself in barbeque sauce before shaking hands with a dragon.

“I like—”

“Don’t—” Maren and Tabby hissed in unison.

“—leather straps—”

“—do it!”

“—or belts,” Darling finished, a little breathlessly.

“Oh my god,” Tabby moaned, tipping her gaze to the ceiling and shaking her head.

But Darling couldn’t think about what that might mean. She was too lost in the way Master Marshall was smiling at her, even as he reached for that hairbrush all over again.

“Thank you, Darling,” he said, her name every bit an endearment rolling off his tongue. “Thank you very much.”

He got up.

“Oh my god,” Tabby groaned again, tensing for it, but it wasn’t to their corner than Master Marshall headed.

Back to the door of his office he went, all business now as he threw it open. “You, you and you,” he said, and when he came back inside, it was with a short line of black-leather clad masters following in his wake.

Kade was the first through the door, and Darling’s heart stumbled to a stop when Marshall directed him right to her.

“That one,” Marshall said. “Nursery and/or mosh pit. Use your belt long, hard and often.”

“Long, hard and often is my specialty.” Laughing, Kade headed straight for Darling. It was a good thing she was sitting because she could feel the strength simply melting right out of her legs.

Directing Alan back into Maggie’s corner, Marshall said, “Nursery, and she’ll need a thorough appointment with our own Doctor Kruchek. Neither of you need to be gentle.”

“Oh my goodness,” Maggie squeaked, peeking out of her corner, her eyes growing huge as Alan closed the distance between them.

Sidestepping Dominick, Master Marshall glanced back out into the hall. “Where’s the little one?”

“Jackson,” Dominick said, as if that explained all.

Maybe it did, because Marshall handed Dominick the hairbrush, then fetched another from the implement cabinet for himself. “Gentlemen,” he announced as he and Dominick headed for Maren and Tabby. “You have your assignments and my express permission to make this a weekend to remember.”

Tabby squeaked when she both sensed and felt the size and heat of Dominick come to stand at her back. Maren squeaked too, but that might have had something to do with the fact that Marshall had snagged her by the ear and was now dragging her like a recalcitrant child toward the sofa.

Darling couldn’t squeak. It was all she could do just to breathe as she looked up at Kade, and Kade grinned down at her, nothing but dark promise in his eyes. “Hello, sweetheart,” he said with a grin. “You’re all mine now.”

To Be Continued…

 

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When well-known chef and restaurateur David Marone recognizes the food critic who just lambasted him in a review on the charity auction block, he bids an inordinate amount to keep her as his slave for three nights. He remembers the haughty foodie from culinary school seventeen years earlier, and relishes the idea of getting even with her for her mean-spirited review.

Portia Sands hopes the dark and gorgeous Chicago chef who won the bid for her at the Castle charity auction doesn’t know her real identity as the food critic who tore him apart in a review the week before. She finds he hasn’t changed since culinary school–still arrogant, over-confident and domineering. Unfortunately, he has the same effect on her now as he did then: reducing her to a trembling mass of jello.

When he pushes her to her limits, placing her in a cage like a pet, she discovers he knows who she is, and means to exact revenge. She considers calling the Castle safeword to end their time together, but some part of her won’t allow it. Somehow she must survive three nights as his slave and keep her heart in the process.

* * * * *

Darling Adams is a naughty author and kinkster who loves writing about hot alpha males, Dominance/submission and power exchanges. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, her books are all centered around kink, namely: spanking. She also writes under the name Renee Rose.

To find more of Darling Adams/Renee Rose, please click these links:

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