In HIS Custody - Resisting A Hot, Alpha Jailer! WIP It Up

Hi All
Welcome to Wip It Up Wednesday. My excerpt to day is from my e-serial Her Keeper2 - In HIS Custody. I'm actually tweaking the whole second series. I've pulled it from Amazon until I've finished the next episode. It's coming along gradually. In this excerpt, Sara is coming to terms with being court ordered into Rick's custody. A big thank you to my beta readers for suggestions.

  SARA

I bang and stomp miserably around the bedroom. The memory of the moment Judge Matthews’ gavel crashed down on my freedom churns inside me. Close to tears, I vent my fury on Rick’s designer furniture. I’m glad that I’m wearing boots, considering how often I kick the solid oak bedstead while making it up.

My stomping soon becomes aimless. I’ve pretty much exhausted all I can do in the room. My stomach growls and I wonder how I can satisfy it without accepting food from Rick. I ease open the door and take a stealthy look out. There’s no sight of him. The distant, muffled sound of his voice eases towards me. The direction of the sound tells me he’s out on the deck. It sounds like he’s on the phone. I can only make out a few words here and there. The words ‘Mom’ and ‘pissed at me’ float towards me through the open glass door.

I let out a slow breath when the weariness in his voice gets to me even through the muffled sounds. Their might even be contrition in his tone. I imagine his mom’s solid common sense comments on the other end of the conversation. Mara Andrews has always favoured me. I know she’s taken Rick to task over his treatment of me more than once. The idea that she might be supporting me now almost makes me feel better.

My stomach grumbles some more. Maybe I should eat with him. It’s not like I have to be nice to him. The image of me sitting with him sharing a meal in dignified, silent reproach while he squirms in abject contrition starts to appeal. A step towards using that power Lisa was talking about. I’m just about to make my way out to the deck when his cell rings again. I recognize Luke’s ringtone.

I’m closer now and his words are clearer. Through the glass door I can see the rain has stopped and the last rays of the autumn sun have dried the deck and no doubt the sand in front of it. An evening barbeque is growing more and more appealing. Rick’s first words to Luke make me feel even better. His rueful, “What do you think?” definitely sounds a bit tortured. At least he’s suffering for his crimes. I stop as he pauses to listen to Luke. Might as well let him finish the conversation. I don’t even feel guilty about eavesdropping. Not after his betrayal. His next words make me wish I’d been more scrupulous.

“The hell she will, but she’ll learn to put up with it…’

Gasping, I turn and head back to the bedroom before he finishes his sentence. I don’t want to hear any more. The arrogant, heartless bastard!! How dare he! I stomp back in. I just manage not to slam the door and sit furiously on the bed consumed with angry misery. I yelp and wince loudly as the mattress reminds me of our time in the interrogation room. I shift and groan. The desire to rotate and push into the pleasure pain of my glowing, welted ass and the memory of the pulse of the dual penetration of the plug and him hard inside me is unbearable. I’m swept away by the hotness of that memory. I want nothing more than to open the zipper of my jeans and slip my hands into my panties to massage my throbbing clit and plunge my fingers into my wet channel.

No way! Not after what I just heard. I thrust my clenched fists into the bed, then twist the comforter in my hands. Resist! I have to resist this feeling as much as I have to resist my more tender feelings for Rick or better yet Detective Prick as Lisa likes to call him. Lisa’s features and tone of voice flash into my mind at that thought and I’m overtaken by spontaneous laughter. The laughter bubbles up and consumes me and I know I’m verging on hysteria. I indulge it. The release feels good. I lie back onto the bed and give way to gusts of laughter. Before I know it, I‘m bawling my eyes out. Deep sobs come in gulps.

“Sara?”

Rick’s urgent inquiry sounds through the door. I can tell he’s hovering on the other side of it, weighing up whether he should respect the line I’ve drawn or come in. I know if I don’t answer him he’ll cross that line. That’s just who he is.

“Go away!” I yell through hiccups and sniffs. Yeah right! Even I’m not convinced I want him to leave.

Rick doesn’t fall for it either. Through my tears I feel his solid, warm body beside me on the bed and then I’m in his arms. I struggle against him, thrashing backwards and forwards in his hold. His hold tightens. I manage to break away a little, kicking against him. I pound his chest, again and again, desperate to fight the overwhelming desire to sink into his embrace. To surrender.

“Stop it, Sara. Let me hold you. Let me take care of you.” His voice is an urgent whisper. 
It stills me, calming my urge to fight. Until the moment in the courtroom and the clutch of my gut at the proclamation of the sentence hits me again. Trusting him has got me nowhere except court ordered into his custody. My stillness has encouraged him to relax his hold and I’m able to pull away and look at him. I struggle to ignore the melting concern in his mocha gaze and stare at him accusingly, my voice scathing. 
“Yeah, right! Like you took care of me at the court house? Like you vacated the warrant? Sure. Why not? That worked out just fine.”

Guilt flashes across his face. His eyes wince at the sarcasm in my tone. His hold lessens even more at the green fire of rebuke I flash at him. I escape from his embrace and we both sit up. I fight the urge to relent at his loss of face. Instead, I feed my satisfaction. It doesn’t feel as satisfying as you’d think. I’m beginning to realize that the surety of Rick Andrew’s always being right is one of the necessities of my life.

That’s what angers and upsets me the most. How dare he fail to be perfect! I need him to piss me off with his justified challenges. To always know, argue and do what’s best for me. I may have stubbornly held a grudge for eight years, but deep down, despite the objections I voiced to Lisa, I never truly doubted that it was my own recklessness that earned me that trip across his knee.

Just like all the other times over the years when we kept butting heads. I knew his advice was sound and that I should listen more. Every time I went up against him it was because I longed for him to rein me in, to step up and take me in hand. When he finally did, my surrender felt like coming home. Liberating. But there’s no way I can justify his going along with Judge Matthews sentence.

No. All I can do is hate him because now he’s squarely in the wrong. I swallow. My mouth tastes bitter and my stomach churns at this new stark reality. A world where the love of my life can screw up indefensibly.

Unbearable.

I fight to keep my feelings from showing, but I suspect my despondency creeps through enough to be visible. I’m sure of it when the guilt on his face disappears and concern melts him again. He reaches for me. A river of his tenderness flows towards me. Hell no! I need to avoid that. I pull further away from him and jump up from the bed, my fists clenched.

“Go to hell, asshole! You really think you can romance your way out of this? Act like you delivered on your promise. Like fuck! You delivered exactly what you threatened in Ginny’s. Even when I followed your stupid orders. Don’t even think of touching me, you jackass!!”

Anger flares in his eyes for a moment and then the determined look I’m used to seeing strengthens his handsome features. He stands up, dwarfing me. I feel his power pulsing against my body before he moves back to give me the space I demand. I can feel my control slip even further in contrast to his measured actions.

He folds his arms and fixes me with his clear, chocolate gaze. His voice is solid, unwavering. “It might not have turned out the way we planned with Lisa earlier, but you were still only sentenced under a bylaw. Your offence stays in this town and disappears at the end of the year served. Your record’s clean and you’re not in jail. So! Yeah! I delivered! Just as I promised.”

I snort inelegantly, effectively expressing my disdain at his claims

He straightens, his arms dropping to his sides. His fists clench, mirroring mine. His face and voice take on a stern fury that doesn’t bode well for my ability to sit. “And I promise I’ll deliver a hellava a lot more if you keep up this attitude, little girl!”

I’m too incensed to heed his warning. Or maybe I want to push. Hell, maybe this is what I’m pushing for. A flash of triumph rages through me. Victory at arousing the tiger in him prompts me to push him even further. This is what excites me about our bouts. The freedom to give vent to my unrestrained anger banishes my fears and even my misery. My heart pounds as I stare into the furious face of the man I love. The fierce passion in these moments binds us together as irrevocably as our lovemaking.

“Don’t you dare threaten me. You’ve no right over me after your betrayal in court. My record may be clean, but you really think this won’t have an effect on my reputation! I struggle enough to gain respect in this town. You think any of that will survive my sentence? Ordered into your custody as a wayward woman under a colonial bylaw! I’m going to be a laughing stock! Just when I’m going back into private practice. Lisa unearthed that bylaw to protect me and you male chauvinist jerks used it for just the opposite! And you bet I’m in jail! With a lying, two faced fucker as my jailer!”

To be continued...

If you haven't read Rick and Sara's love story the first book with HFN ending is available as episodes or a complete book.

                                                                     

Intimate Knowledge - Caught and Punished!

Hi Everyone,
Great to be back on Saturday Spankings! It's been a while. It's been a glorious summer and a gorgeous fall here in England and Belgium where I was working for part of the summer.Off there again this morning for three weeks. Working but hoping to write as well.
My extract today is from my e-serial Intimate Knowledge. I'm rewriting it here and here and working on the next episode and plan to re-publish soon. It is an undercover cop and mafia romance.
We join the two main characters Raisa (undercover) and Leo (mafia) at a Boston nightclub where he has caught her trying to meet someone to as her BFF put 'f**k him right out of her system.' Naturally, she's in trouble, especially as she's wearing a very slutty outfit. At this point, after two very painful swats to her behind, he's marched her off to a private corridor and ripped off her far too revealing dress, leaving her in only her panties and heels...

I cross my hands over my naked breasts.  I can’t help comparing how different this feels from this afternoon when he freed them with tender passion using his hands and mouth to provide me with sweet, succulent pleasure. Strangely, shamefully, it’s no less arousing.

“Drop your hands.”

I obey him, dropping them to my side, but I refuse to drop my eyes.  Matching his piercing stare, I lift my chin.  Penitence or appealing to his pity is not working, maybe bravado will.  He leans into me, bracing one hand flat on the wall at either side of my head, caging me.  

Speaking close to my ear he warns in a quietly, ominous tone, “If I ever catch you dressed like that again, you won’t sit for a week.” He pauses to run his hand over the burning flesh of my buttocks before he continues. “That’s not an exaggeration, Raisa.  For the simple reason that each and every day of that week, I’ll take you across my knee for a severe thrashing - is that clear?”

Don't forget to visit all the other great blogs. 

Wip It Up Wednesday Intimate Knowledge - Take Two

Well back on Wipitup Wednesday. Late due to computer crash and not on my new website, but here it is. Right now I'm reworking a serial I published from November 2013 to July 2014. Unfortunately didn't write it for a while so I unpublished it. I'm now getting ready to republish with a reworking and the next episode. I love this story best of all. It's the story of Leo and Raisa and has a suspense element and a love triangle.
This is the new opening:

Preface

Drip, drip, drip…

It is deeply dark.

I peer through a nighttime, black velvet absence of light only present in the semi-wilderness. I choke on the cloying, fetid stench of the water and centuries of layered undergrowth and fallen forest. The frozen dampness seeps in through my ripped clothing and torn flesh. I shift awkwardly to ease the ache of lying in this place for so long. I try again to struggle against the tight bonds that render my wrists and ankles immoveable. Faint sounds of movement further down by the bank of the lake alert me again to the grotesque activities enacted over the past hours. A soft, muffled weeping reaches me. I strain to see through the dark. Clouds move across the night sky. A sudden revelation lit by the half-moon uncovers a wretched sight.

Dark figures hunch over the inert form, their foul work finally at a close. All hope leaves me as I watch them heave the body into the lake. The movement of the trussed form through the dark water takes on an aching, slow motion quality, drawing out the agony. Desperate to cry out to mark the descent with the piercing howl it deserves, the filthy rag at my mouth denies me even that. Instead, I’m left only with the sound of the dripping forest, the lapping waves and Aura’s keening lament tearing through the night.

Chapter One

RAISA

Whoosh

My breath escapes in measured gulps as my surroundings come back into focus. The bullseye target hurtles down the shooting range towards me. The repeated bullet holes at its center form a ragged circle that testifies to the effectiveness of my aim. I’m aware of the weapon heavy in my hand.

Stepping away from the range, I remove the protective earmuffs that deaden the sound of repeated gunshots from the other lanes. Passing a shaky hand over my face, I’m met with the dewy dampness that covers it. I close my eyes, willing the misery and fear away. The sound of a long, low, drawn out whistle eases me free me from the power of the haunting sights and sounds.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch, teach.”

I breathe out, grateful for the teasing nickname and steadying balance of the deep male voice behind me. My legs are still shaky from the dark images that invaded me for those few moments. Drawing heavily on my cop skills to banish the aftermath of the waking dream, I manage to turn round with a casual grin on my lips

“It’d take more than a few weeks away to do that, Kincaid.”

The 6’1’ rugged, rough around the edges detective winks at me. “Guess I can confirm your weapon reclassification, then.” He takes my Glock, records the serial number, signs off on the form and hands it back. “Good to have you back, Raisa.”

I weigh the weapon, fondling it like a lost lover and then fit it tenderly back in my shoulder holster. Six weeks is a long time to be parted from my baby.

“Yeah.” I answer Kincaid, huskily.

“But not for long, I hear.”

Kincaid’s tone holds a quiet rebuke. Despite that, I feel a quick rush of excitement. Something I’ve not felt for a while.

“Yeah.” My tone is hard against his reproach.

He runs his hand through his hair in an action I know he adopts when he’s troubled. I rest my hand on my weapon, keeping my sight on the target in front of me. I shrug. My tone is flippant.

“Yeah, well. How was I to know that two years of evening courses would get me up to speed enough for the chief to enter me for a police scholarship? Guess he really wants shot of me.” I turn and grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Imagine, in about three months, I’ll be sitting in the halls of learning of a prestigious institution – me, Raisa Gordon.” I shake my head. “Go figure.”

Detective Luke Kincaid is not deterred. He counters my grin with a determined, searching stare. “I don’t get it, Raisa. I thought law school was just to help you be a better cop. Isn’t that what you told me? So you’d never screw up the arrest or the search. Now you’re going to be one of them.”

I match his look, giving him the seriousness our association deserves. My voice is soft, slightly apologetic, recognizing his sense of betrayal. “Yeah, vice has been good to me, partner, but it’s time.” I lower my voice and meet his eyes, my own darkening with a request for his understanding. “It’s still law enforcement, Luke.”

His accusation melts with my unusual softening, coupled with my almost never use of his first name. He looks at me soulfully before he realizes he’s doing it. When he does realize, I see the blush creep up his neck and along his hard, darkly stubbled jaw. He drops his eyes hiding their green glow. I don’t have to see it. I know him too well not to be able to picture it. Six years on the force hasn’t managed to erode his endearing mix of tough and tender. He’s one of the best rookies I brought through during my days as a training officer. After I left training for active service, it didn’t surprise me that he’d moved through the ranks rapidly enough for us to serve in the same department. He was my partner in vice for three years until he moved up to homicide last year.

I know he carries a torch for me.

My reputation as a badass and the seniority of my training role never intimidated him the way it did the other rookies. He’s a genuine nice guy and despite his dark, hard man looks, a bit of a soft touch with women. None of which detracts from his hotness. Several sources attest to his considerable talent in the sack and I’m tempted every time we reconnect, but it would be cruel to hook-up with him. His feelings are engaged and I know he’d not be satisfied with anything less than a relationship.

Raisa Gordon doesn’t do relationships. Hot sex with hot guys when she has the time, but not relationships. Professional camaraderie, even friendship, is fine at a certain level. Love is too dangerous an emotion and to be avoided unfailingly. I ruthlessly discarded it on any intimate level – family, lover, husband, child - when it catastrophically shredded me apart eight years ago.

I focus on the procedure of returning the earmuffs and securing my weapon, giving Luke space. He soon recovers and starts talking shop as we head off the range together. In the lift to the detectives’ floor, he fills me in on the significant goings on that I’ve missed at the precinct.

As we walk across the bullpen, he nods over to the senior detective’s office. “The chief’s been in there with two agents from the bureau for the past hour.”

My pulse starts to quicken. I follow his gaze. The only gig we have with the bureau these days is the Gold Task Force. Their trafficking and other nefarious activities have been under surveillance for over three years. Rumor has it there’s a new lead in the case. I’ve wanted to be on that task force from day one, but no way so far. Luke’s filled one of the spots for homicide for just under a year. Letting me live vicariously through him, he usually keeps me updated as much as my classification allows.

“Yeah? Any idea what the gig is?”

He confirms what I’d heard. “There’s a new lead in the case.” He gives me a pointed look, like there’s something I should know.

I raise my eyebrows, frustrated that he’s making me work for it. Wishing I were a bitch so I could unscrupulously use his feelings for me to indulge in constant pillow talk about the investigation, I just give him my best badass, I trained you, look. It really pisses me off that he has less experience and yet pulls more challenging and higher rated duties. It may be the 21st Century, but the glass ceiling is still there for women in the field as well as the boardroom.

He gives me a meaningful look. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I turn quickly, heart hammering. Active duty does that to me “Fuck, Luke, you serious! They’re bringing me in?”

He nods darkly and gives me a non-committal answer. “Not for me to say.”

“Hey, you schmuck, you can’t tease me like that and leave me hanging.”

He’s not happy about them bringing me in. I wonder why. I know it can’t be because he feels I’m not up to the job.

He shrugs. “Like I said, you’ll find out soon enough.”

***

Hope that's peaked your interest. Please checkout my new website and maybe download the free book and join my mailing list. Just remember however tha tthe websitis also a WIP!

Helen Karol x

Wip It Up Wednesday Intimate Knowledge - Take Two

Well back on Wipitup Wednesday. Late due to computer crash and not on my new website, but here it is. Right now I'm reworking a serial I published from November 2013 to July 2014. Unfortunately didn't write it for a while so I unpublished it. I'm now getting ready to republish with a reworking and the next episode. I love this story best of all. It's the story of Leo and Raisa and has a suspense element and a love triangle.
This is the new opening:

Preface

Drip, drip, drip…

It is deeply dark.

I peer through a nighttime, black velvet absence of light only present in the semi-wilderness. I choke on the cloying, fetid stench of the water and centuries of layered undergrowth and fallen forest. The frozen dampness seeps in through my ripped clothing and torn flesh. I shift awkwardly to ease the ache of lying in this place for so long. I try again to struggle against the tight bonds that render my wrists and ankles immoveable. Faint sounds of movement further down by the bank of the lake alert me again to the grotesque activities enacted over the past hours. A soft, muffled weeping reaches me. I strain to see through the dark. Clouds move across the night sky. A sudden revelation lit by the half-moon uncovers a wretched sight.

Dark figures hunch over the inert form, their foul work finally at a close. All hope leaves me as I watch them heave the body into the lake. The movement of the trussed form through the dark water takes on an aching, slow motion quality, drawing out the agony. Desperate to cry out to mark the descent with the piercing howl it deserves, the filthy rag at my mouth denies me even that. Instead, I’m left only with the sound of the dripping forest, the lapping waves and Aura’s keening lament tearing through the night.

Chapter One

RAISA

Whoosh

My breath escapes in measured gulps as my surroundings come back into focus. The bullseye target hurtles down the shooting range towards me. The repeated bullet holes at its center form a ragged circle that testifies to the effectiveness of my aim. I’m aware of the weapon heavy in my hand.

Stepping away from the range, I remove the protective earmuffs that deaden the sound of repeated gunshots from the other lanes. Passing a shaky hand over my face, I’m met with the dewy dampness that covers it. I close my eyes, willing the misery and fear away. The sound of a long, low, drawn out whistle eases me free me from the power of the haunting sights and sounds.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch, teach.”

I breathe out, grateful for the teasing nickname and steadying balance of the deep male voice behind me. My legs are still shaky from the dark images that invaded me for those few moments. Drawing heavily on my cop skills to banish the aftermath of the waking dream, I manage to turn round with a casual grin on my lips

“It’d take more than a few weeks away to do that, Kincaid.”

The 6’1’ rugged, rough around the edges detective winks at me. “Guess I can confirm your weapon reclassification, then.” He takes my Glock, records the serial number, signs off on the form and hands it back. “Good to have you back, Raisa.”

I weigh the weapon, fondling it like a lost lover and then fit it tenderly back in my shoulder holster. Six weeks is a long time to be parted from my baby.

“Yeah.” I answer Kincaid, huskily.

“But not for long, I hear.”

Kincaid’s tone holds a quiet rebuke. Despite that, I feel a quick rush of excitement. Something I’ve not felt for a while.

“Yeah.” My tone is hard against his reproach.

He runs his hand through his hair in an action I know he adopts when he’s troubled. I rest my hand on my weapon, keeping my sight on the target in front of me. I shrug. My tone is flippant.

“Yeah, well. How was I to know that two years of evening courses would get me up to speed enough for the chief to enter me for a police scholarship? Guess he really wants shot of me.” I turn and grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Imagine, in about three months, I’ll be sitting in the halls of learning of a prestigious institution – me, Raisa Gordon.” I shake my head. “Go figure.”

Detective Luke Kincaid is not deterred. He counters my grin with a determined, searching stare. “I don’t get it, Raisa. I thought law school was just to help you be a better cop. Isn’t that what you told me? So you’d never screw up the arrest or the search. Now you’re going to be one of them.”

I match his look, giving him the seriousness our association deserves. My voice is soft, slightly apologetic, recognizing his sense of betrayal. “Yeah, vice has been good to me, partner, but it’s time.” I lower my voice and meet his eyes, my own darkening with a request for his understanding. “It’s still law enforcement, Luke.”

His accusation melts with my unusual softening, coupled with my almost never use of his first name. He looks at me soulfully before he realizes he’s doing it. When he does realize, I see the blush creep up his neck and along his hard, darkly stubbled jaw. He drops his eyes hiding their green glow. I don’t have to see it. I know him too well not to be able to picture it. Six years on the force hasn’t managed to erode his endearing mix of tough and tender. He’s one of the best rookies I brought through during my days as a training officer. After I left training for active service, it didn’t surprise me that he’d moved through the ranks rapidly enough for us to serve in the same department. He was my partner in vice for three years until he moved up to homicide last year.

I know he carries a torch for me.

My reputation as a badass and the seniority of my training role never intimidated him the way it did the other rookies. He’s a genuine nice guy and despite his dark, hard man looks, a bit of a soft touch with women. None of which detracts from his hotness. Several sources attest to his considerable talent in the sack and I’m tempted every time we reconnect, but it would be cruel to hook-up with him. His feelings are engaged and I know he’d not be satisfied with anything less than a relationship.

Raisa Gordon doesn’t do relationships. Hot sex with hot guys when she has the time, but not relationships. Professional camaraderie, even friendship, is fine at a certain level. Love is too dangerous an emotion and to be avoided unfailingly. I ruthlessly discarded it on any intimate level – family, lover, husband, child - when it catastrophically shredded me apart eight years ago.

I focus on the procedure of returning the earmuffs and securing my weapon, giving Luke space. He soon recovers and starts talking shop as we head off the range together. In the lift to the detectives’ floor, he fills me in on the significant goings on that I’ve missed at the precinct.

As we walk across the bullpen, he nods over to the senior detective’s office. “The chief’s been in there with two agents from the bureau for the past hour.”

My pulse starts to quicken. I follow his gaze. The only gig we have with the bureau these days is the Gold Task Force. Their trafficking and other nefarious activities have been under surveillance for over three years. Rumor has it there’s a new lead in the case. I’ve wanted to be on that task force from day one, but no way so far. Luke’s filled one of the spots for homicide for just under a year. Letting me live vicariously through him, he usually keeps me updated as much as my classification allows.

“Yeah? Any idea what the gig is?”

He confirms what I’d heard. “There’s a new lead in the case.” He gives me a pointed look, like there’s something I should know.

I raise my eyebrows, frustrated that he’s making me work for it. Wishing I were a bitch so I could unscrupulously use his feelings for me to indulge in constant pillow talk about the investigation, I just give him my best badass, I trained you, look. It really pisses me off that he has less experience and yet pulls more challenging and higher rated duties. It may be the 21st Century, but the glass ceiling is still there for women in the field as well as the boardroom.

He gives me a meaningful look. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I turn quickly, heart hammering. Active duty does that to me “Fuck, Luke, you serious! They’re bringing me in?”

He nods darkly and gives me a non-committal answer. “Not for me to say.”

“Hey, you schmuck, you can’t tease me like that and leave me hanging.”

He’s not happy about them bringing me in. I wonder why. I know it can’t be because he feels I’m not up to the job.

He shrugs. “Like I said, you’ll find out soon enough.”

***

Hope that's peaked your interest. Please checkout my new website and maybe download the free book and join my mailing list. Just remember however tha tthe websitis also a WIP!

Helen Karol x

Wip It Up Wednesday Intimate Knowledge - Take Two

Well back on Wipitup Wednesday. Late due to computer crash and not on my new website, but here it is. Right now I'm reworking a serial I published from November 2013 to July 2014. Unfortunately didn't write it for a while so I unpublished it. I'm now getting ready to republish with a reworking and the next episode. I love this story best of all. It's the story of Leo and Raisa and has a suspense element and a love triangle.
This is the new opening:

Preface

Drip, drip, drip…

It is deeply dark.

I peer through a nighttime, black velvet absence of light only present in the semi-wilderness. I choke on the cloying, fetid stench of the water and centuries of layered undergrowth and fallen forest. The frozen dampness seeps in through my ripped clothing and torn flesh. I shift awkwardly to ease the ache of lying in this place for so long. I try again to struggle against the tight bonds that render my wrists and ankles immoveable. Faint sounds of movement further down by the bank of the lake alert me again to the grotesque activities enacted over the past hours. A soft, muffled weeping reaches me. I strain to see through the dark. Clouds move across the night sky. A sudden revelation lit by the half-moon uncovers a wretched sight.

Dark figures hunch over the inert form, their foul work finally at a close. All hope leaves me as I watch them heave the body into the lake. The movement of the trussed form through the dark water takes on an aching, slow motion quality, drawing out the agony. Desperate to cry out to mark the descent with the piercing howl it deserves, the filthy rag at my mouth denies me even that. Instead, I’m left only with the sound of the dripping forest, the lapping waves and Aura’s keening lament tearing through the night.

Chapter One

RAISA

Whoosh

My breath escapes in measured gulps as my surroundings come back into focus. The bullseye target hurtles down the shooting range towards me. The repeated bullet holes at its center form a ragged circle that testifies to the effectiveness of my aim. I’m aware of the weapon heavy in my hand.

Stepping away from the range, I remove the protective earmuffs that deaden the sound of repeated gunshots from the other lanes. Passing a shaky hand over my face, I’m met with the dewy dampness that covers it. I close my eyes, willing the misery and fear away. The sound of a long, low, drawn out whistle eases me free me from the power of the haunting sights and sounds.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your touch, teach.”

I breathe out, grateful for the teasing nickname and steadying balance of the deep male voice behind me. My legs are still shaky from the dark images that invaded me for those few moments. Drawing heavily on my cop skills to banish the aftermath of the waking dream, I manage to turn round with a casual grin on my lips

“It’d take more than a few weeks away to do that, Kincaid.”

The 6’1’ rugged, rough around the edges detective winks at me. “Guess I can confirm your weapon reclassification, then.” He takes my Glock, records the serial number, signs off on the form and hands it back. “Good to have you back, Raisa.”

I weigh the weapon, fondling it like a lost lover and then fit it tenderly back in my shoulder holster. Six weeks is a long time to be parted from my baby.

“Yeah.” I answer Kincaid, huskily.

“But not for long, I hear.”

Kincaid’s tone holds a quiet rebuke. Despite that, I feel a quick rush of excitement. Something I’ve not felt for a while.

“Yeah.” My tone is hard against his reproach.

He runs his hand through his hair in an action I know he adopts when he’s troubled. I rest my hand on my weapon, keeping my sight on the target in front of me. I shrug. My tone is flippant.

“Yeah, well. How was I to know that two years of evening courses would get me up to speed enough for the chief to enter me for a police scholarship? Guess he really wants shot of me.” I turn and grin, trying to lighten the mood. “Imagine, in about three months, I’ll be sitting in the halls of learning of a prestigious institution – me, Raisa Gordon.” I shake my head. “Go figure.”

Detective Luke Kincaid is not deterred. He counters my grin with a determined, searching stare. “I don’t get it, Raisa. I thought law school was just to help you be a better cop. Isn’t that what you told me? So you’d never screw up the arrest or the search. Now you’re going to be one of them.”

I match his look, giving him the seriousness our association deserves. My voice is soft, slightly apologetic, recognizing his sense of betrayal. “Yeah, vice has been good to me, partner, but it’s time.” I lower my voice and meet his eyes, my own darkening with a request for his understanding. “It’s still law enforcement, Luke.”

His accusation melts with my unusual softening, coupled with my almost never use of his first name. He looks at me soulfully before he realizes he’s doing it. When he does realize, I see the blush creep up his neck and along his hard, darkly stubbled jaw. He drops his eyes hiding their green glow. I don’t have to see it. I know him too well not to be able to picture it. Six years on the force hasn’t managed to erode his endearing mix of tough and tender. He’s one of the best rookies I brought through during my days as a training officer. After I left training for active service, it didn’t surprise me that he’d moved through the ranks rapidly enough for us to serve in the same department. He was my partner in vice for three years until he moved up to homicide last year.

I know he carries a torch for me.

My reputation as a badass and the seniority of my training role never intimidated him the way it did the other rookies. He’s a genuine nice guy and despite his dark, hard man looks, a bit of a soft touch with women. None of which detracts from his hotness. Several sources attest to his considerable talent in the sack and I’m tempted every time we reconnect, but it would be cruel to hook-up with him. His feelings are engaged and I know he’d not be satisfied with anything less than a relationship.

Raisa Gordon doesn’t do relationships. Hot sex with hot guys when she has the time, but not relationships. Professional camaraderie, even friendship, is fine at a certain level. Love is too dangerous an emotion and to be avoided unfailingly. I ruthlessly discarded it on any intimate level – family, lover, husband, child - when it catastrophically shredded me apart eight years ago.

I focus on the procedure of returning the earmuffs and securing my weapon, giving Luke space. He soon recovers and starts talking shop as we head off the range together. In the lift to the detectives’ floor, he fills me in on the significant goings on that I’ve missed at the precinct.

As we walk across the bullpen, he nods over to the senior detective’s office. “The chief’s been in there with two agents from the bureau for the past hour.”

My pulse starts to quicken. I follow his gaze. The only gig we have with the bureau these days is the Gold Task Force. Their trafficking and other nefarious activities have been under surveillance for over three years. Rumor has it there’s a new lead in the case. I’ve wanted to be on that task force from day one, but no way so far. Luke’s filled one of the spots for homicide for just under a year. Letting me live vicariously through him, he usually keeps me updated as much as my classification allows.

“Yeah? Any idea what the gig is?”

He confirms what I’d heard. “There’s a new lead in the case.” He gives me a pointed look, like there’s something I should know.

I raise my eyebrows, frustrated that he’s making me work for it. Wishing I were a bitch so I could unscrupulously use his feelings for me to indulge in constant pillow talk about the investigation, I just give him my best badass, I trained you, look. It really pisses me off that he has less experience and yet pulls more challenging and higher rated duties. It may be the 21st Century, but the glass ceiling is still there for women in the field as well as the boardroom.

He gives me a meaningful look. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

I turn quickly, heart hammering. Active duty does that to me “Fuck, Luke, you serious! They’re bringing me in?”

He nods darkly and gives me a non-committal answer. “Not for me to say.”

“Hey, you schmuck, you can’t tease me like that and leave me hanging.”

He’s not happy about them bringing me in. I wonder why. I know it can’t be because he feels I’m not up to the job.

He shrugs. “Like I said, you’ll find out soon enough.”

***

Hope that's peaked your interest. Please checkout my new website and maybe download the free book and join my mailing list. Just remember however tha tthe websitis also a WIP!

Helen Karol x

Wip It Up Wednesday - Back to an Old Favorite - Her Keeper 2 - In HIs Custody Episode 3 #wipitup

 Hi Guys,

Well finally back on wipitup.  My main WIP is the second in my Hope Junction series, Wes and Janey's story, but I've had a number of readers ask about my Her Keeper e-serial, lately. It made me realize that I've neglected it shamefully, especially considering how popular it is.  So I decided to leave Hope Junction for a visit to Lake Andrews and write Episode 3 of In His Custody (Her Keeper 2).  My latest email from a reader reminded me that I did leave it with a bit of a cliffhanger. "The last book I read she was given over to his custody and we learn her life is in danger. That was where it ended."  OOPs.  Now that really is not playing fair considering it was almost a year ago.  So new resolve.  I will write an episode of Her Keeper along with writing my novels.  I promise to keep them coming. Here's an extract from the end of the last episode, followed by a short extract from my WIP of the next episode. It is written in alternating first person present tense. The end of the last episode is from Ricks POV and the WIP is from Sara's POV

  

Next my cell lights up with Luke’s tone.  “Hey, buddy.   You okay?”

“What’d you think?”

“She’ll get over it.”

“The hell she will, but she’ll learn to put up with it.  Hopefully, once she knows why, she’ll reconsider castrating me.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Worse.”

“We didn’t have a choice, Rick”

I nod, travelling back to only a couple of hours ago as I took in the sight of Luke and Aaron’s faces as they sat me down in chambers.

Luke pulls out his laptop.  He nods and motions me to come over to look at what he’s brought up on to the screen. 

"These are all Sara's cases she worked on the year she took over her grandfather's practice.  See a pattern?"

"Other than at least half are pro bono and the rest will be legal aid?"  I offer this connection with a puzzled look.   "That’s no big deal, Luke.  Harmon didn't care about money and he managed well enough, living frugally, to take care of his family.  When he died a lot of people lost out on affordable counsel.  I know that’s why he left Sara his practice, along with enough of an inheritance to keep her in reasonable comfort if she’s careful.  Her taking up where Harmon left off meant a lot to the people of this town.  I've told her that already.  She left a void when she took the prosecutor's job."

"Yeah, so why did she?  Did she apply?"

I shake my head wondering where this is headed.  "No.  They approached her.  I tried to talk her out of it, but it made her even more determined to take it."

Luke sighs.  "Yeah, she sure likes to do the opposite of what you tell her.  Knee jerk reaction every time."

I scowl at him before demanding.  "Just cut to the chase, Luke.  What’ve you figured out?  You’re on to something.  Right?"

"Right."  He presses a key and the screen methodically changes to reveal a pattern that makes me give a long, low whistle.  “Is this solid or just a theory?"  I shift in my seat and look at him, worriedly. 

"Nothing solid, yet, but enough to make me worry and you should be worried too.  Very worried.  You need to keep Sara close to you and protected until I figure this out for sure.”

“How long will it take you?”

Luke shrugs.  “Hard to tell.  Days, weeks, maybe months.  Sooner than later, I hope, but I can’t guarantee anything.  Meanwhile you need to be able to keep a close eye on Sara.  Especially around her practice.  Do you think she’ll cooperate?”

This is when Aaron chimes in. 

“In a pig’s eye.  You know she won’t, Rick.  Luke and I’ve talked this over and we reckon you should just make good on the sentence you set down in the first place.  I’m going to court order her into your custody.  It’s the best way.  Given her bull headed nature, I'd say don’t give her a choice."

"In to my custody.  Are you nuts?  Aaron you can't arrange the law to do that, even if it is in Sara's best interests."

“Sure, I can.  There’s precedent.  This bylaw her friend Lisa has unearthed was designed to deal with wayward women back in colonial times.  Hell, under it, I could order her to marry you. It’s still on the statute.”

Thank fuck I persuaded him out of that.  So here I am with my Sara love stomping about my house.  Back to hating me.  I can hardly blame her for feeling betrayed, but I can’t tell her what’s at stake.  I can’t tell her that I need to keep her close, not just so I can keep her under my control, but so I can keep her alive.

***

WIP Extract!

    Straightening, I stare him down, accusing him. “You’re complicit in this, aren’t you? You didn’t fight it. You betrayed our agreement. You’ve got what you wanted without my consent.” The last sentences are statements. I’ve no doubt of his guilt.

    He doesn’t even bother to contradict my assessment of Judge Matthews’ court order relegating me to his custody for the next twelve months. Of course not.  Why should he?  It’s exactly the sentence he pronounced in Ginny’s diner, yesterday. It’s a total betrayal because I’ve done precisely as he demanded and yet he’s still robbed me of my freedom.

  He just looks at me with his resolute mocha stare and opens the courthouse door, making it clear he expects me to go through it. Tilting his head, he motions me into action with a curt order. “The car’s out front. Get in.” 

    I hide my own betraying emotions at his consideration in bringing the car round.  Through the open door, the heavens start to pelt it down, consolidating my mood. Before I can make a dash for the car, he stops me, slips out of his jacket and covers me with it. Then he lets me go with a nod. I struggle not to draw its soft, worn leather and its now familiar comfort around me. No way am I letting my guard down and softening enough to trust him again.

   We reach his house after a heavy, silent ride in the Mustang. My misery deepens when I think of how I’d felt all kinds of excitement about finally being able to enact all my girly fantasies about Rick and me in that car.

   Zero chance of that, now.

   I run from the rain onto the covered deck porch. He unlocks the back door and I hand him his jacket right after. The action reminds me of handing it back to him on my own wraparound porch this time last week. I can hardly believe the shift in our lives since then.  In just under seven days, we’ve declared and consummated our love. I even trusted him enough to surrender to his rough and tender possession and submit willingly to his discipline and domination. Our session in the interrogation room was so sexy and thrilling.  It felt so profound what we shared at the end. I felt so close to him. I was sure he felt it too. Yet, less than an hour later, he let Judge Matthews’ custodial sentence destroy everything.

   I walk down the hall and push open the door to the second bedroom. Crossing my arms over my body, I turn and square up to him. "I’m not sharing a room with you.”

                                                                   

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Deception Revealed and A Spanking Warning in HIS By Design - Welcome to Saturday Spankings

Hi All,

Its been a while since I've been here on Saturday Spankings.  Its great to be back and offering an eight sentence teaser from my erotic romance HIS By Design.  It 's on a Kindle Countdown Deal all this week at 99 cents so don't miss it! Now at #55 in Top 100 in BDSM!

In this extract, Julian turns up unexpectedly at Claire's office in order to treat her to lunch.  She is out on assignment and returns to see him talking to the new photographer who just happens to be her ex-lover. A fact she has kept from him. Despite her concerns over the potential consequences for her deception, Claire is disappointed when Julian appears not to be at all  jealous. He seems calmly unconcerned, until they leave for lunch together and he makes an apparently casual inquiry about a party they are attending that evening.

     When he spoke again his voice was as even as before,“So the party this evening – sit down dinner or buffet and cocktails?”

    Unbalanced by the apparent change of subject, Claire took a few moments to answer him. “Sit down dinner.”

    “Hmm.  Unfortunate for you, considering you’re going to be sitting on a well strapped bottom,” he told her in a low conversational tone.

    She looked at him then. Despite his easy tone, the steel in his eyes was unmistakable. Gulping, she dropped her gaze guiltily. There was no point in acting like she didn’t know what he was talking about.

Blurb

The year a mutual friend introduces Julian West to Claire Fitzpatrick, they are both grieving the loss of a loved one.  Regardless, it is the start of an enduring friendship. A friendship where both comfortably forget the sizzling attraction that flared between them when they first met. Now, six years on, that attraction has re-emerged and as their romance blossoms, it is not long before he takes her across his knee to deliver lengthier bare bottomed spankings both erotic and disciplinary.  But neither of them is prepared for the deep love they each come to feel, but are unsure the other shares. When Claire's ex-lover reappears on the scene and Claire suspects Julian has never stopped loving his late wife, they must decide if they will go their separate ways or if theirs will be a love designed to last.

                                                                   

Saturday Spankings - Turned On By A Spanking - The Rancher's Woman #SatSpanks #Spanking #excerpt #erotica

Hi Guys,

Welcome to Saturday Spankings.  My teaser today is from my western romance The Rancher's Woman.    Set in the small Wyoming town of Hope Junction, The Rancher's Woman is Tessa and Chance's love story. Tessa has just moved to town to start a new business and Chance is the local rancher who falls for her.  My extract joins the story after Chance has taken Tessa across his knee for the first time.  After he leaves, Tessa inspects the aftereffects in the mirror and is dismayed at her reaction to the spanking.

******** 

 Not only had she let Chance spank her, she let him comfort and cuddle her afterwards, purring at his promises of pleasuring later. Even worse, she was guilty of actually pushing him into it. What was with her! Biting her lip, she looked down at the floor, rubbing and squeezing her backside to soothe the burn and ache. Gradually her rubbing slowed to an exploration of the mottled swelling, lingering over the ridges of his fingertips. Moaning a little, she guiltily let one hand move round to her front, slipping her fingers down over her wet, swollen labia. Oh, dear God. The spanking turned her on.

Blurb

Everyone in town knows sparks of attraction have been flying between Tessa and Chance almost from the moment her nursery business brought her to beautiful Hope Junction, Wyoming.  Despite his bossy ways, Tessa soon begins to realize that Chance might well be the man she’s been waiting for her whole life. Will Chance’s decision to take her in hand tear them apart or will Tessa learn to see his discipline as proof of the love they will share for the rest of their lives?

                                                                           
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N is for Needs -My Day 14 of the From A to Z of Spanking Blogging Challenge #SpankA2Z and Saturday Spankings #SatSpanks

Welcome to My Day 14 of the From A to Z of Spanking Blogging Challenge #SpankA2Z
and Saturday Spankings 

is for Needs.    A partner who fufills needs rather than just wishes and desires is a truly gifted lover.  DD and D/s relationships IMHO are about meeting needs. A good disciplinarian/dominant will anticipate the needs of their partner, especially when said partner is struggling to understand their own needs.  My eight sentence teaser today  from Her Keeper explores this. 

Rick has just told Sara that he has arranged for to be taken off the case that has burdened her for months  Much to both their surprise, she is estatically grateful.  Rick tells her that in future he'll put his foot down over her needs regardless.  He also informs her that they are going to make their relationship work because now that he finally has her, he's never letting her go...

"One way or another, we're going to make this work, because there's no way you're ever getting away from me, now.” 

She smiles, but I can see she's thrusting down a jolt of anxiety arising from the determination in my voice and attitude.  I imagine she's wondering if I really mean what I say enough to curtail her freedom.  She has reason to suspect that - ultimately, she knows my ordinary Joe, small town cop persona is an illusion.  I keep to it as much as I can, but in reality, I'm rich and powerful with influential connections.  I've the ability to control her against her wishes.  She has reason to be worried - I've made up my mind that from now on her wishes are not my concern.  

Only her needs are.

                                                    

Scroll down for the extended extract.

Don't forget to visit all the other great blogs

He opens the wine and pours us both a glass.  I join him to sit side by side on the stools, shifting a little in pleasure pain when the cool leather feels hard and yet soothing on the places that I know still bear his handprint.  We each take a sip of wine.  It's velvety smooth and I look forward to how it’ll increase in taste as it breathes.  I'm distracted from my enjoyment of it when he picks up my cell from the counter and looks at me sternly over the rim of his glass.

“So, little girl.  Have you been good?  I trust I'm going to be happy with you when I check this.”

I struggle to smother my stubborn, knee jerk reaction to his dominant mode.  Instead of telling him to fuck off, who does he think he is forbidding me access to my messages, I will my brain to respond to the way that look and tone makes my stomach flip with intense excitement and my pelvis clench in hot desire.  I take another sip of my wine and nod with clear eyes.  He takes me at my word and puts down the phone without checking it.

“Good.  After dinner, I'll erase every single message from Gencor or any to do with their case.  You never have to look at them or worry about them again.  I sorted it out with Jim and you're off the case, no hard feelings.”

My spontaneous response to this announcement shocks us both.  I put my glass down and launch myself into his arms flooded with a gratitude that astonishes me.  “Oh, Rick.  Thank you!  Thank you!  I'm so glad to never, ever have to think about them again.”

***

Stunned by Sara’s reaction, I perform a miraculous juggling act, just managing to avoid soaking us both with my wine.  Putting my glass down, I lift her chin to give her a hard, fast kiss and then hold her fiercely against my chest.  My voice is just as fierce.  “Damn it!  I knew it!  I should've put my foot down over this months ago.”  I stroke her hair, my voice only a little less forceful.  “From now on, I'll do exactly that when necessary.  I'll go with my gut over your needs and there will be no nonsense from you over it!”

I can tell she stifles a smile at my outburst, but makes no protest.  Probably still too euphoric at the removal of the burden she's been dragging around for almost half a year.  I tighten my hold and continue, frustrated with myself.  “I should've paid more attention!  I let your stubbornness infuriate me when I should've seen past it and sorted this out for you sooner.  My version of your knee jerk response, I guess.”  I hold her away from me and look down at her with rueful tenderness.  “I’ll work on adjusting that too, sweetheart.  I promise.”

She plays with the buttons on my shirt and shifts her gaze to them.  Her tone holds excitement at my admission, her words tumbling out in a rush.  “Oh, Rick.  I'm so glad you said that.  I'm so glad to know that just because you're dominant you don’t consider yourself all-knowing in the relationship.  That you're still willing to take on responsibility for failings and are prepared to make adjustments?”

I sit back and look at her askance and ask her with a hint of irritation.  “Sara.  What crap have you been reading or who have you been talking to?  Think of my comments after I spanked you for boasting about your sexual experience.  I accepted responsibility then, as well, instead of punishing you further for challenging me, didn’t I?  I’m dominant, not God Almighty.”

She grins.  “Really?  You mean you know you're actually not omnipotent?”  She laughs and then squeals when I playfully pinch her ass in retribution.  She gives me a molten, teasing pout, making a show of rubbing her cute bottom in mock pain, accusing me sexily.  “Brute!”

She pauses and then her voice takes on a serious note as she returns to my earlier comments.  “You can’t blame yourself, Rick.  How could you know how much I wanted off this case?  I didn’t even know myself until just now when you told me I was free of it.”  I can see the relief flood her again as she says it.

I cup her jaw and speak to her in a soft tone.  “That’s the point, sweetheart.  That's one of the main responsibilities of 24/7 dominance.  It’s my job to anticipate your needs, to know what’s good for you, especially when you don’t.”

She gulps and looks at me a bit awestruck.  “Oh.  I’d never have interpreted a D/s relationship that way.”

I grin this time.  “Why, Sara?  What do you see?  An arrogant jackass, strutting about in leather, throwing his weight around and demanding you kneel to him?”  She blushes and looks down and I know I'm not far from the mark.

“Maybe.”  She admits with awe still in her voice.  “At least, I never for a moment thought it might include caring for my needs in that way.  Taking on that much responsibility for me and my welfare.”  I stay silent letting her new perspective sink in.  She's quiet for a moment and then makes a point of reassuring me.  “Well, we weren’t in a relationship then, so you can’t hold yourself accountable.”

“Mmm, maybe.”  I murmur.  Stroking her jaw, softly, I ask.  “We weren’t in a relationship, then.  Does that mean you accept we're in a relationship, now?”

My heart is in my mouth waiting for her response to my question.  The moment of truth.  She takes her eyes from the buttons of my shirt and looks up at me.  “I guess.  It's just...  I'm not sure, Rick.  There are things that still bother me.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.  Not that her answer would have any effect on the ultimate outcome, but I'd rather she surrendered willingly.  “Of course there are.  We're not suddenly going to slip into this with plain sailing.  We need to adjust to each other.  Discuss things.  But don’t worry, little girl.  One way or another, we're going to make this work, because there's no way you're ever getting away from me, now.”

She smiles, but I can see she's thrusting down a jolt of anxiety arising from the determination in my voice and attitude.  I imagine she's wondering if I really mean what I say enough to curtail her freedom.  She has reason to suspect that.  Ultimately, she knows my ordinary Joe, small town cop persona is an illusion.  I keep to it as much as I can, but in reality, I'm rich and powerful with influential connections.  I've the ability to control her against her wishes.  She has reason to be worried.  I've made up my mind that from now on her wishes are not my concern.  Only her needs are. 

I may be willing to admit to failings and make adjustments, but that doesn’t include letting her go.  I'm now utterly convinced she needs me and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her with me under my dominance and control.