It is 1945, and the war is finally over. Millions of lives have been changed and now have to be rebuilt. Patrick O’Shay is a returning soldier, on extended leave, waiting for his final discharge. He wants to put his life back together but he is not sure how. Everything he has ever known is gone. When he returns home, his reality is a lot different than he expected. His first meeting with a feisty, beautiful landlady lands both of them rolling on the floor. It is a shock, but it is also a challenge he accepts. 

Ivy Yeager is through with men. They are nothing but trouble and aggravation. She is not capable of telling the difference between the good and the worthless, and she has had enough of useless guys in her life. She is not going to take a chance again! The trouble starts, though, when she finds herself attracted to a returning soldier who holds her livelihood in the palm of his hand. 

Can two individuals with heartbreak and distrust between them, begin to rebuild their lives together? Can they take a chance in a world that is changing daily? 


Publisher’s Note: This historical romance includes elements of domestic discipline and sensual scenes. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase. 



Ivy glanced at her watch. “Almost two hours. I didn’t think it…” She never got to finish her sentence. Patrick lost it, and he was furious. He took her hand, and with a jerk, he propelled her across the divide between the two beds and kicked the door shut. He sat on the other bed, tossed her over his knees, and laid a hard spank on her ass.

“Patrick!” Ivy screamed, trying to rise as he held her firmly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You should have figured it out by now,” Patrick exclaimed as he laid another stinging wallop across her bottom.

“Oh!” Ivy exclaimed, struggling to get away. He had pinned her wrists with one hand while the other was spanking her. He was spanking her!

She tried to scramble off Patrick’s lap, but he was having none of it. He tossed her skirt out of the way, and he pulled down her panties so he could see his target clearly. Each wallop to her bare bottom left a burning trail of throbbing pain. Ivy clawed at Patrick with her one good hand, but he was not letting go. She pounded on his leg with her plaster cast as she squirmed and tears filled her eyes.

Patrick was beyond angry. He had warned Ivy repeatedly when he caught her trying to move and drag heavy items instead of asking for help. The headboard could have crushed her! Antique or just plain old, the damned thing probably weighed more than he did. If this had been his first time catching Ivy, he might have let her go with a warning. It wasn’t. He had been clear several times. She was stubborn and unreasonable. He knew how to fix that!


About the Author


Who am I? Mariella Starr is a pseudonym. I am a very private person. I married young, had a career (unrelated to writing) and raised my children very traditionally with my husband. There have been several constants in my life. Love of a large family, husband and children, and friends who have been drawn into our sphere, once captured and never to be released.

Also, there has always been a love for my hobbies, reading, writing, painting, sculpting are the ones that have stuck. I have tried dozens more, and although I loved learning them, and have used the skills many times, they have fallen to the wayside, such as stained glass, jewelry making, wood carving, cake decorating (all of which have been used at some time or another).

I have heard the adage that writers are born, not made. I believe those words. I don’t claim to be a great writer as that has never been a goal, although I hope I am always improving. I write because I have written from the time I could string three words together. I did it for myself, not anyone else. I have written everyday of my life for as long as I can remember. Was it all publishable? Of course not. I didn’t write to publish. I wrote because it filled a need within myself.

I tell you all this, because I write the storylines of my characters. I never know where they are going to take me or what they are going to do, but I love writing them.

Reading was my first love. Writing was my second, and I was learning to paint and thought I was destined to be an ‘artistic type’ and would never marry.

Guess what happens when you meet the man of your dreams? My priorities changed, and I have never regretted a moment of it. He also sparked an interest in romance stories, so you can blame him for my strong, single-minded, stubborn alpha heroes.

I have fit into an early retirement perfectly. My lifestyle is casual and active, but I’m still a workaholic. I stay busy doing things I truly enjoy. One of those things is writing, and I thank everyone for the readership.

New avenues of interest will always be open, and I look forward to them. Life is good and we are living it to the fullest. I also love receiving e-mail from readers and can be contacted at