Stevie MacFarlane's Blog, page 19

T is for Teasing

What's more delicious than a man who knows how to tease properly?  In Matched for Keeps, Marcus has Susan on a slow simmer all weekend, refusing to have sex with her until they reach his mountain lodge.  Now that they are finally alone and almost home, he gives her a sample of what he has in store for her:

Sugar Babies, Inc. Book Three,  Matched For Keeps

     Susan stayed where she was, across from Marcus until he snagged her wrist and pulled her over and onto his lap.  Burying his face in her hair he sighed, his arm firmly around her.

      “Ah,” he sighed, breathing in her fragrance.  “Alone at last,” he whispered approvingly.

      “Alright Snidely Whiplash, take it easy,” Sue replied.  “There’s still the driver you know.”

      Marcus laughed, sliding one hand down and massaging her bare foot gently.  Working his way back up her leg, he pushed her short skirt out of the way as he stroked her delicate skin. 

      Sue squirmed as he lingered at the inside of her thighs, her stiff back relaxing in pleasure, despite herself.  When his large hand moved higher, cupping her firmly, she moaned in delight.

      “You’re wet,” Marcus groaned.

      “Whose fault is that?” Sue asked, her breathing rapidly accelerating.

      “Mine, I hope and I intend to keep you that way, wet, hot and needy.  How do you feel about going commando?” he teased, lightly stroking her clit through her panties.

      “That is exactly the kind of question you ask when your hand is not buried between my legs,” she gasped.

      “But you’re so such more malleable this way,” Marcus replied, smiling as he bent to kiss her neck.

      “Exactly,” she agreed, her thighs falling further apart as she arched into his hand.  “It’s an unfair tactic,” she panted, loving the feel of his erection pressing against her ass.  “You just think it will be easier to spank me without panties.”

      “Red, any spanking you get from me will always be on your bare ass,” he laughed. “Panties are a minor inconvenience, easily remedied.”  As if to prove his point he slipped his finger under the edge of her panties and gathered her moisture, rubbing it over her clit in slow circles.

      “Marcus, please,” she begged as her head fell back, exposing more of her neck to his kiss.  Her hips arched, trying to steer him inside her but he wouldn’t be rushed and in fact lessened the pressure as she pushed against him.

      “Settle down, Red.  We’ll be home soon,” he breathed into her ear.

      “Fuck you Marcus,” she growled, sitting up and grabbing his shirt in both hands.  “You started this fire and you damn well better be good at putting it out.”

      “Such language coming from such a delicate little thing,” he laughed, pulling his hand out of her panties, giving her one final pat as the driver turned off the road.

Hope you enjoyed this little snippet from my Sugar Babies, Inc. Series.  Book Four will be out soon. Have a great weekend.
Please visit some of the other blogs today.  Thanks
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S is for "I Just Wanna Soak It"

For years I've wondered if my husband was strangely unique or just strange lol.  When we first got together I spent a great deal of time trying to decipher his words.  As a young 'city' girl I'd never met anyone quite like him, a true 'country' boy.

When he would answer a question with "Does a bear shit in the woods?" I would stop and think about it.  Well, yes, I guess he does,I mean where else would he go?  So does this mean your answer is yes? 
"Can't dance, to wet to plow?" Over time I learned that this meant, we might as well do something or other.
"I couldn't buy a low-necked dress for a Hummingbird."  Okay, so if you can't afford a itty, bitty  dress for an itty bitty bird, you must be really broke, right?
"You can't polish a turd."  Why would you want too?
"He could hunt Geese with a rake."  Excuse me?

 Needless to say, opposites do attract and we began to bring out the best in each other.  I think I taught him a little finesse and he brought me down to earth.  Seriously, I had no idea it cost money to turn up the thermostat. If you were cold you turned it up, hot turn it down.  I guess I thought the mysterious furnace fairy took care of that.  My family wasn't rich, but I never worried about money or even thought much about it. Water, sewer, natural gas were all things that were somehow just pumped to our house by some intricate underground system. He grew up using an outhouse until he was around seven when his parents could afford to build a home with indoor plumbing. 


Anyway, to get back to the letter 'S'.  In one of my novels, I used something my husband always said to me.  He would crawl into bed, after a long exhausting day and spoon me, I love that.  Then the sneaky man would begin kissing my neck and nibbling my ear as he whispered, "I just wanna soak it."
Never, let me repeat this as it's crucially important, never believe this!  There is no such thing as 'soaking' it.  Yes, it's warm and wet in there, well it is after a few minutes of nibbling and kissing, but they will be no soaking.  Trust me, one of you will move!  And it doesn't have to be much of a move either.  Pretty soon a big, strong arm will come snaking around your abdomen and a hand with very talented fingers will head south.  End of soaking!

So, when I put this in my novel, my editors had no idea what I was talking about and just plain didn't get the image of 'soaking'.  I had to take it out, so I didn't confuse the readers.  So tell me, do you get it?  And is my husband strangely unique or just strange?  I'm keeping him anyway, and after 43 years, I may be pretty strange myself, but I'm curious. Please stop by and visit some of the other bloggers taking part in the challenge.  I'm sure they'll appreciate it.  Thanks
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The Rebel

I don't think I could write a story about a female character if she wasn't a little bit of a rebel. Conflict is necessary and of course resolution usually comes in the form of a trip across the hero's knee.  Besides that, it just plain fun and Bridget O'Malley  has been more fun than most.  In my novella, The Not-So-Lucky Bridget O'Malley, conflict begins on the very first page, so here's an excerpt.  Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter One

     Bridget O’Malley plopped down on a bar stool at The Rose and Thistle and promptly jumped back off with a squeal.  Her brother, Patrick, made no attempt to conceal his amusement as he took inventory of the liquor bottles behind the bar.

      “Do you always laugh at the misfortunes of your customers,” Bridget asked tartly, standing at the bar.  “Give me a beer.”

      “Not all of them,” Patrick shot back smiling.  “Only ones who are deserving of a little, ah what was it you called it?  Oh yes, misfortune.  I hardly see how a sore hind end can be classified as misfortune.  Knowing Dell, I’m sure you earned it.” 

      “Just shut up, Pat, and give me a beer.”

      “A please would be nice.”

      “Do all your paying customers say please?” she asked sarcastically.

      “No, are you paying?”

      “Well, no but…just put it on my tab will you?”

      Patrick laughed.  “You don’t have a tab, Bridge, and if you did you wouldn’t pay it anyway,” he told her putting a beer on a coaster in front of her.  “What’s the trouble about anyway?  You’ve been surprisingly well behaved since you and Dell got engaged.  I thought things were good between you two.”

      “They are, or they were until a little while ago,” Bridget replied after taking a big gulp of her drink.

      “So what happened?”  Patrick was genuinely concerned.  He and his older brother Rory had put a lot of effort into this relationship, probably more than Bridget.  They’d almost hand-picked Dell for their little sister.  Frantic for her to settle down, at least a little bit, they spent hours talking to Dell and instructing him on the proper way to handle their headstrong, wild sister.  No one in the family wanted Bridget to be unhappy, but they didn’t want her to self-destruct either. She needed love certainly, but firm guidance and stability were essential.  The quintessential free spirit, Bridget sailed through life in the moment without a care or concern for the future.  Her personal motto was, ‘If it feels good, do it.’  She loved everyone and assumed everyone loved her.  Bridget had absolutely no sense of fear or restraint and the entire O’Malley family had breathed a collective sigh of relief when Delbert Bertram Winston the 4th had somehow convinced her to marry him. 

      “We had an argument over St Patrick’s Day,” Bridget answered gloomily.  “Apparently we have been invited to the St. Patrick’s Day Dinner Dance at the country club and Winston told his parents we were going.”

      “So?”

      “So, I told him there was no way in hell I was going to miss the St Patrick’s Day bash at the pub.  I said I wasn’t spending one of the most important days of the year at his stuffy country club with a bunch of people who were so socially constipated they can barely fart!”

      Patrick dropped the bar towel to the floor so he could bend down and have a second or two to recover.  Biting the side of his cheek, he controlled his laughter not wanting to give his sister any encouragement.  In all reality she was probably right.  Standing back up he noticed her flushed cheeks and flashing eyes.  He could just imagine how angry and confrontational she had been with Dell.

      “How did that go over?” Patrick asked watching her blonde ponytail swinging behind her.

      “He said I was being unreasonable, that my language was atrocious and that he hoped I would not feel the need to be vulgar at the dance.  I said vulgar?  You want to see vulgar?  Look at this hawking big ring on my finger, now that’s vulgar,” she continued, sticking out her tiny hand adorned with a four karat solitaire surrounded by smaller stones.

      “Oh Bridget,” Pat sighed.  “I don’t think that was a good idea.  Did he ask for his ring back?”

      “No, and he wouldn’t take it when I tried to give it to him.  He said I made a commitment to him and he was going to see that I kept it.  I tell you Pat, I thought my head was going to explode I was so pissed off.  I don’t understand why his mother didn’t want me to keep the first ring he gave me.  It was much smaller and prettier, but no, I have to wear this giant thing.  I know it’s expensive and old but I swear it’s so big it looks like it came out of a bubble gum machine.”

      Patrick watched as Bridget picked up her beer and drained it before slamming it down on the bar.  He refilled it without a word and waited for her to continue.  Knowing Bridget, he figured what she’d told him so far was just the tip of the iceberg.  Bridget might be small in stature, but her ego was monstrous.

      “So was that the end of it?” Patrick asked after he served another customer.

      “Hell no!  He told me that for once in my life I was going to behave and do as I was told.  I was starting to get a little nervous.  Winston is really pretty strong, even for a geek, but I figured I was way faster than him.  Turns out I’m not as fast as I thought.  I finally just told him to kiss my Irish ass and that I was not going to that damn dance and there was nothing he could do about it.  Turns out I was wrong about that too,” she finished red-faced as she absently rubbed her bottom while sipping her beer.

      “Look Bridge,” Patrick said gently as he walked around the bar and threw his heavy arm over her shoulder.  “Maybe Dell’s not the man for you after all.  I really like him, we all do, but we thought you were in love with him.  If you’re not…”

      “That’s what really sucks about the whole thing, Pat.  I do love him, the shithead,” she admitted with a grimace.  “I really just set out to seduce him,” she stated, giving her brother a jab with her elbow when she heard his hissed curse.  “Oh, shut up Pat, guys do it all the time.  For some reason I was immediately attracted to the big geek.  I figured we could have some fun and he really did make me laugh.  He took himself so seriously that I couldn’t resist bursting his bubble.   He was like a huge piece of bubble wrap that you just can’t leave alone after you pop the first one,” Bridget grinned unashamedly. “And besides that, what are you doing taking my side when you just about gave him lessons on spanking me?  What’s up with that?”

      “I know, it doesn’t make sense to me either,” Patrick admitted walking back behind the bar.  “I just want you to be happy Bridget, and safe and loved.  If I thought for one second that Dell did not have your best interest at heart…if he ever disciplined you without love behind it, I’d punch his lights out myself.”

      “Don’t worry about it, okay?  He hasn’t spanked me since Christmas Eve Day so I figure maybe he owes me a little.  As much as it pains me to admit it, I do have my moments when I can be a little aggravating.  Winston is really a gentle natured man, but he has his limits.  I just have to figure out where the line in the sand is and dance on this side of it.”

      Patrick smiled.  “Cheer up Bridget, maybe you can bring some of those old codgers to life at the dance.  You can be very charming when you want to, kid.”

      “Thanks, Pat, for listening to me bitch without judging me.  I have to get moving.  I’m meeting Mrs. Delbert Winston the 3rd for a shopping expedition.  Apparently she doesn’t trust me not to embarrass them at their soiree so she wants to help me find a dress.  She’s paying of course, ‘Nothing is too good for Dell’s little fiancee’,” she mocked flashing her ring.

      “Have fun kid, put a dent in her budget,” Patrick encouraged.

      “Hell, I couldn’t put a dent in their budget if I insisted I needed a carriage drawn by six white horses.  Wait till you see their house, I mean they have servants for Christ’s sake,” she finished, giving a little repulsive shiver.  “The place is like a museum,” she called over her shoulder as she headed to the door.



Hope you find time to check out some of the other blogs on the Spanking A-Z challenge.

QUICKLY, PLEASE

Most of my life, I've been in a hurry.  Patience is a virtue, not mine.  Do it! Do it now! Do it right or get out of my way and I'll do it myself!
 I wasn't always like this.  As a child I recall lazy summer days lying on my bed,the smell of  freshly mowed lawn and Lilacs drifting in my window as I day-dreamed or read. 

I think it started when I began to have children. One, two, three, oh here comes four, oops five.  Suddenly, there was no time to dawdle.  There were clothes to wash, children to bathe, meals to prepare, doctor appointments, shopping and family gatherings.  No! Please don't pour maple syrup on your brother's head!  We don't have time for this!  Get that cleaned up, quickly now, we're going to be late. By the time the last child was presentable enough to leave the house, the first one had gotten dirty.  I remember being ready to walk out the door, frazzled, quickly running out of patience, only to find my son sitting on the toilet backward, marching in the water with his new sneakers on.  Really?

Over time I became a pint-sized Drill Sargent.  "Do you kids realize if I have to tell each of you 5 times to clean your room, I've said it 25 times!!!"
"If you call Mommy one more time, I'll change my name!  Go to sleep!"
 "Helen?"  (My name is NOT Helen, it really isn't)

I became the Queen of Quickies.  Seriously, I could climax 3 times in 10 minutes, maybe less.  We did it everywhere, went parking on the way to the store if we could find someone to mind the kids, in the bathroom, with me sitting on the washer (he's tall), we were quick and stealthy, like sex ninja's.

My job outside of the home was working with the frail elderly or disabled  I was usually the first one in, assessing the situation and making referrals to the proper agencies.  I guess I was still kind of a Drill Sargent, not with my clients but with those who were to serve their needs.
"No they can't wait till next week!  They need it now, actually yesterday.  Yes I know your busy but this is critical. Are you telling me you won't take this referral?  I just want your name for my records so that the proper agency can bear the responsibility WHEN MY CLIENT FREEZES TO DEATH, OR STARVES OR DROPS DEAD FROM LACK OF MEDICAL ATTENTION!  Yes, thank you, see you tomorrow."

So, now that I'm older and my kids are grown you would think I would have more patience.  I'm retired for God's sake.  I should relax, take it easy, that sort of thing, but no. I hate waiting, I hate being shuffled to the back burner and I absolutely abhor having smoke blown up my ass, not literally of course.  If you tell me you're going to do it, do it now, do it right and if you can't, I'll get somebody who can or I'll do it myself.

End of rant.  Have a nice day.
Go visit some of the other blogs before I have to do it myself!
Just kidding.
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Procrastination

Ah, finally the letter 'P'.  You all have no idea how patiently I've been waiting for 'P' day.  You see, I have this sister who's is remarkably talented as both a writer and an editor.  Princess, Keriann McKenna, (I would have used Queen Keriann, but it's 'P' day) has penned not one, but two prolific novels and where are they you may ask?  Peacefully presiding over her PC. 

I know it's preposterous, but in fact, Keriann is a profoundly procrastinating perfectionist, pontificating on why it's permissible to sit on her work and not publish it for all of posterity to peruse.

Not only that, but she has partially penned a third novel and has left me precipitously dangling over a precipice of pleasurable possibilities as to how it will proceed.  I tell you it's positively provoking!

Alas, I proclaim,  I love her very much, (sigh), and will persevere with my prodding and pushing until she publishes.  Until then... just go buy my books, they're pretty good too.
Please take a few minutes out of your busy day and check out some of the other blogs participating in this challenge. Thanks

Ordinary Men

As a rule, I write about ordinary men. By that I mean they are not billionaires, living the high life.  They may have money, but they work for it.  Marcus and Ty from the Sugar Babies, Inc series inherited a fortune, but Marcus is a successful author and Ty is a Vet. 

I want my readers to be able to connect in a real way with my characters. Patrick O'Malley and his wife Molly, own and work very hard to make a living with their Pub.  Nick is a lawyer and his wife Maggie is a foreman at Mason Kord's construction company.  Abby works in a Bridal Shop, Bridget at the Library.  Noah is a professor at the local university.

Of course, you won't know who all these people are if you haven't read my books and that's okay.  The point is they are ordinary in the sense that they are part of a family and a community.  They raise their children, work, pay bills, and struggle with life's unexpected calamities.  Above all, they love.

Occasionally, my female characters will cause a bit of trouble and get their bottoms spanked, and that is a little out of the ordinary in today's world, but it's great fun to write and I hope, fun to read.
I  know it's Father's Day and we're all busy, but if you find the time later, check out some of the other blogs and leave a comment.

N is for Naughty

Yes, 'N' is for Naughty.  We love our naughty girls, don't we.  I mean where is the fun in writing about a perfectly behaved woman with their impeccable manners and soft spoken ways.  No, give me a Scarlet O'Hara any day, sassing Rhett Butler and trying to steal Ashley Wilkes away from Melanie.  Had Mr. Butler indeed taken a buggy whip to Scarlet as he threatened, I'm sure there would have been a very different ending to Gone With The Wind.
But, I digress.  Now and then I don't mind reading about the poor, put upon, heroine who has been beaten down by the wicked ways of the world, but sooner or later, after she's been rescued of course, she better show some spunk!  I want to see/read some spirit, sass and a touch of defiance. She has to have a spark that makes me care about her, root for her and smile when she goes to far and gets her fanny spanked by her loving man.

So who's your favorite naughty girl? She can be from a movie or novel and why.
Stop by the other blogs and see what's heating up today.

M is for Molasses

Let me start by saying I'm not overly fond of Molasses cookies.  In fact, I wouldn't buy them from a store on a bet. However,
THESE COOKIES ARE FABULOUS, and it's not because it's my Grandmother's recipe either.  Now, this is a secret recipe that I never share with anyone, but I've come to so respect the other bloggers on this challenge that I find I must be generous.

Grandma and Grandpa got married in 1916 and at that time she was not a great cook.  I can remember when I was little Grandpa telling me the story of when they first got married and Grandma made biscuits that were so bad she fed them to the neighbors chicken.  They died, lol.  I don't know how true this story is as she always slapped him with her dishtowel when he told it, but on the other hand, I never knew my Grandpa to lie.  So here it is, exactly how she wrote it in my cook book before she passed away in 1980. The parts in ( ) I added so it will be clear.  I've made them many times and they always disappear quickly.  These are soft cookies and it you store them in an airtight container with a piece of bread, they will stay that way.


Molasses Cookies

2 c sugar  (cups)
1 c lard  soft or melted  (shortening)
1 c molasses
1 c coffee  (I use decaf but it doesn't matter)
2 eggs beaten
2 tsp soda  (baking soda)
2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp cloves  (ground)
4 or 5 c flour

Cream sugar, melted lard and eggs together. ( I use shortening or margarine and I don't melt it, just let it soften).  Add coffee when cooled, not hot and then add molasses. Add 4 cups flour, soda, cinnamon, gloves etc and beat good. Let stand overnight.  (I cover and put in fridge for the night or several hours if I'm in a hurry).  If too thin in the morning add 1/2 flour and drop on cookie sheet and bake until brown at 375 for 25-30 minutes.  (In today's over, I have convection, I bake them about 15-16 minutes). You can add 1 c nutmeats or 1 c raisins if you want. Try one on a pie tin to make sure not to thin and if they are add 1/2 cup flour.


Over the years Grandma turned into a wonderful cook, selling her pies and cakes.  She was a wiz at canning and I don't remember ever eating canned vegetables.  Her sloppy joe's were to die for and she canned her own piccadilly to make them.  Her home made Root Beer was a very mysterious project which she did in the cellar in huge stone crocks and bottled herself. Down there was her gas stove for caning, a deep double sink and her wringer washer. The wall were lined with cupboards, filled with mason jar of her 'eats'. On hot summer nights my sister's and I would get in our nightgowns and swing on the metal glider on the front porch, enjoying Root Beer Floats,  Those were the days.  Oh, one more thing about Grandma, she loved Elvis!


Please check out the other blogs on the A-Z spanking blog challenge.

LYRICS

Music touches our soul, the lyrics make it personal.  Throughout out lives we use song to express our deepest feelings.  I remember watching an episode of Family Guy where Peter wanted a theme song for his life, and laughing.  In reality, that would never work for me.  There are too many periods in my life where the theme would have to change.  Joy, sadness, depression, grief and hope, would all have to flow together.  There have been times of incredible anger, and times when I was so filled with love, the most beautiful melody on earth would not be able to do it justice.
 
Janis Joplin's, Cry Baby, The Eagles, Best of My Love, Garth Brooks, The Dance, Martina McBride, In My Daughter's Eyes, there are just to many to list.  So many wonderful songs and artists make up the soundtrack of my life.
John Denver's, Annie's Song was what I walked down the aisle to when I married the love of my life. 

Celine Dion's , Because You Loved Me, was the song my daughter chose to dance with her father at her wedding.

So what's your theme song?  What songs touch your heart now and forever?  Share with us the music that makes your heart sing.
Please stop by some of the other blogs today and see what's going on,  I'm sure you'll be entertained.

Killjoy

The definition of killjoy is someone who take's the joy or enjoyment out of something.

So here's what happened.  This weekend I finished my WIP, book 4 of my Sugar Babies, Inc. series.  Yeah! 

In celebration I decided to buy some books.  If you're like me, when you're working it's very rare to take the time to read.  You're focused on the goal, finishing you own novel and try not to get distracted by anything else.  Of course, we all have  other responsibilities that require out attention, but reading is a pleasure, one I  save for down times or if I just can't help myself.

Anyway, I bought eleven books. I know, a pretty lofty goal considering I'm already working on a new novel. Some I've been wanting for a while and others  just caught my eye.  Immediately I immersed myself in erotic romance, reading the first one in an afternoon and leaving a glowing, well-deserved review.  Moving on to the second book, I was impressed.  It had a great storyline, interesting characters and was well written, not a lot of distracting errors, that kind of thing.  There was A LOT of description, but hey, I've read Gone With The Wind more times than I can remember, and the Twilight Series at least three times, so length doesn't faze me. 

And then it  happened!  Right in the middle, a sentence that stopped me cold!  It turned me off with a capital T faster than a cop's flashlight shining in the back window of a steamy car. I tried to move on; I liked the story, but I kept hearing him say that to her.  Now I know that not all readers like everything, I mean we all have our favorite kink, but this book was so good, until this sentence reached out and slapped me!

So here is my question to you:
What is your 'killjoy'?
What will make you immediately stop reading and close that book you just paid for?
Do you just skim over it and pretend it didn't happen? 

I curious if I'm in the minority here, or oversensitive about certain things?
This is kind of how I felt.
Please visit some of the other bloggers today.  The code for the linky list is gone, but if you go to one of my earlier posts, you can navigate from there.