Be warned, these are not your sweet and clean Amish romances!

Jack will not tolerate disobedience, especially when his history threatens to disrupt the Amish community.

These three spicy Amish romances are now available in one collection featuring: Plain Passion, Restless Rumshpringa, and Simple Pleasures.

Plain Passion

Betsy wants nothing more in her life than marry Eli, and raise a family in the old ways. But she is surrounded by silence meant to bring her closer to the church, and yet is pushing her further away.

The only one not silent is Eli, and he has a different way of dealing with undesirable behavior that make her feel submission in a whole new way.

Restless Rumshpringa

While her friends are out exploring the wild ways of the world, Katie obediently tries to stay within their Amish community. When her parents won’t let her have fun with her Rumshpringa time, she must choose between obedience and the restless callings of her soul.

Simple Pleasures

Jack Stein has had more identities in his life than he can remember. A childhood spent in the refuge of Witness Protection paved the way for a sterling career as a CIA agent. Now he’s had enough of playing identities, and he buys a farm in Amish country to settle down.

Ellie Yoder is everything he ever wanted in a wife, even down to her misdeeds that he quickly corrects. Jack will not tolerate disobedience, especially when his history threatens to disrupt this quiet Pennsylvania town with danger and intrigue.

Publishers Note: These previously published books are not for the faint of heart and contain power exchange.

Exclusively on Amazon


“I’m Ellie Yoder, your neighbor down the lane a-ways.”

A sudden, great gust of ice cold wind shocked him with its contrast to the overly hot and sweaty summer day. It nearly knocked her over, and he reached out to steady her. Thunder rumbled the land beneath their feet, and the loud clap of lightning struck made her eyes widen in fear. She looked up at him, as if expecting him to do something about the storm.

“Let’s get inside.” He reached towards her hand, pleased with the way her short stature forced those wide blue eyes of hers to look up to him.

The little pup let out a little yip of a whimper and took off towards the barn. Ellie avoided his offered hand. She turned on her heel and ran after the little pup.

Jack’s took a few long strides after her and grabbed her arm.

“Get inside.”

His order was clipped and hard, he knew, but if the green-black sky was any indication, there’d be a tornado overhead within minutes.

She wiggled her arm from his grasp. “I have to get Brownie!” She shuddered at another gust of cold wind and headed towards the barn.

“No!” Jack was walking briskly after her, shaking his head. “Ellie, it’s tornado weather. Come inside with me.”

“Who do you think you are?!” His commands infuriated her and made her want to rebel, even though she knew he was right. Even while hail and rain spread across the horizon like a giant blanket about to cover them in cold, she ran towards the barn. A little voice told her to listen to him, but then the image of Brownie’s big puppy eyes struck fear in her heart. A tiny runt like Brownie was no match for a tornado.

And she loved the little pup, she really did.


His angry voice spurred her feet to a run and Jack’s cursing behind her only made her run faster. She had never heard the People use such language, but she knew very well what those words meant.

After only thirty feet, Jack caught up with her and roughly grabbed Ellie’s arm. “Where the hell do you think you’re going, you damn fool of a girl!”

Ellie thrashed her arm to loosen his hold, but he held painfully firm. “But Brownie!”

Ice balls whipped at her legs and hail crashed down around them, biting into their arms and faces. All pride aside, she followed him in a full sprint to the house. Jack’s hand squeezed possessively—too painfully—on her arm as he guided her down into the cellar.

A huge rumble shook the earth, sounding like a giant motor engine. Jack saw Ellie’s eyes go wide in fear at the sound, and panicked tears started trailing down her face. “A tornado!” Her eyes were huge and scared like an animal in full instinctual flight mode. He lunged towards her before she ran towards the stairs, but managed only to pull the cap off her head, scattering bobby pins everywhere.

He raced after her, his heart lurching in a panic he didn’t understand.

She fumbled with the lock. “Let me go! Little Brownie! My family! I must get to Ephraim!”

He grabbed her hand, then flipped her over his shoulder. Her sobs didn’t much bother him—some women had a tendency towards great emotion while under pressure—but when she kicked him right in the nuts with her thrashing, Jack went purple with pain.

Jack growled and dragged her down the stairs, and began spanking the daylights out of her. John Wayne had never steered him wrong yet, he thought wryly.

“When this storm is over, you’re gettin’ the spankin’ of your life.”

It didn’t seem to calm her any, and when he sat down and flipped her over his lap, she tried to squirm off for all she was worth. The house shook badly with the wind and Ellie screamed long and high. By the time the girl ran out of breath, the storm was gone as quickly as it came, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

Ellie was still bottoms up over his lap when they collectively breathed a sigh of relief, but Ellie soon filled the silence with squeals and wiggles of outrage.

Jack grinned.

He looked at that bottom as if it were a stray nail needing a good hammering. God, he thought, how long has it been since I’ve given a good spanking? Not enough time to play with his kinks in the field—too risky.

The black apron had fallen open in the back, revealing more of the vibrant blue dress. For the first time, he caught sight of the orange running shoes blaring out from behind her otherwise put-together, neat and humble attire, and he let out an alarming bark of laughter. He had studied the local culture with the thoroughness he would have studied the local culture for one of his missions.

Dress was plain and simple in Amish culture, most of the People dressing the same. In the tiny variances of dress, clues to a girl’s status in the community could be found. Ellie’s orange running shoes told a lot of her story: an unmarried young lady—probably between 19 and 22, from the looks of it—sowing her oats before she joined the church, received baptism, and got married. Since she hadn’t joined the church, hadn’t yet promised her obedience, the elders would overlook such blaring individuality that went against the teachings of the Ordnung.

He yanked all that cloth—the floor-length black apron and the vibrant blue dress—up out of his way, revealing a pair of red underwear that attracted him like a mad bull to a fallen rider. Unable to restrain himself, he ran a hand over the smooth cloth and sighed with pleasure.

“If ever there was a girl that needed a good spanking, it was you.”