Marriage, Mobsters, and a Marine
When writing
my book, Marriage, Mobster's
and the Marine, I learned so much about the wonderful men and women who
make up the Unites States Marine Corps. The more I learned, the more my respect
for them grew.
I was so glad
I made Jared Armstrong a Marine. The first chapter of Marriage, Mobsters and the Marine can be read on my website. Also,
if you want to know more about Jared, there are a couple of short, free reads
about him on my website.
Blurb
Abigail
Montgomery, a small-town schoolteacher with zero self-confidence, dreams of the
Dickensian Christmas her family never enjoyed. Each month she attends a masked
BDSM club, but her next visit will be her last. If she doesn’t marry within the
next year, her brother won’t inherit Montgomery Hall. Desperate, she advertises
for a husband.
Jared Armstrong, a former Marine sharpshooter and occasional Dom, needs $125,000 to get his family out of a hole. His solution--to marry Abigail Montgomery for her money. His only regret is his wife won’t accept his spanking lifestyle.
Soon, Abigail dreams of making their marriage real, but she promised Jared a divorce two years after their wedding. Can they share some Christmas magic as their relationship faces extortion threats, a kidnapping, and an attempted murder? Or will Jared walk away and break her heart?
Jared Armstrong, a former Marine sharpshooter and occasional Dom, needs $125,000 to get his family out of a hole. His solution--to marry Abigail Montgomery for her money. His only regret is his wife won’t accept his spanking lifestyle.
Soon, Abigail dreams of making their marriage real, but she promised Jared a divorce two years after their wedding. Can they share some Christmas magic as their relationship faces extortion threats, a kidnapping, and an attempted murder? Or will Jared walk away and break her heart?
Excerpt
Whipping was one of her hard limits. She didn’t want to safeword, not on her last night here, but she
couldn’t let him whip her. She
worked out three times a week in the local hotel’s
basement gym. The ladies of Westhorpe Ridge would be outraged if she arrived
covered in bruises or lash marks. As a respected schoolteacher, she couldn’t afford the rumors and scandal.
Sometimes she thought her hometown would fade away if the locals didn’t have her family to gossip about.
Master Jay chuckled. “Don’t worry. I plan to spank your bare
ass until it glows in the dark, but I’ll do
it with my hand, not paddles or whips. Then I’ll
spank it some more. The only toys I have in mind tonight are a blindfold and
some ropes.”
Abigail’s heart raced again. This man
knew exactly what she needed, and while she regretted they hadn’t hooked up before, she liked to
study a Dom before she placed herself in his care. Maybe that was why she’d not played many scenes, but she’d always been a
better-safe-than-sorry kind of girl. Her mouth dried in anticipation, and her
nipples tingled as she let him lead her into a private room.
She’d left the choice of
surroundings to her Dom for the night, but the canopied bed with white
broderie-anglaise-trimmed covers surprised her. It would be a perfect match for
the white lacy basque she wore beneath her catsuit. When she’d bought it online, she’d had Master Jay in mind.
He settled into a leather armchair, one ankle crossed over the other
leg’s knee, totally relaxed. “Take off your catsuit. Slowly. Make
me drool.”
Behind her mask, Abigail grinned. Her Dom understood her exhibitionist
streak. She bent at the waist, giving him a peek at her cleavage as she leaned
toward him and shimmied her hips. He shot forward, almost coming out of the
chair to land a gentle slap on her butt.
She slowly lowered the zipper on the front of her catsuit. He whistled
in a breath when he saw what she wore beneath it. White lace stretched over her
breasts before the boned and laced bodice flowed over her flat stomach. Once
she’d hooked her thumbs in the
catsuit, she wriggled her hips and pushed it over her thighs. It pooled around
her ankles, and as she stepped out of the folds, she kicked it over by the
wall.
When she reached to unlace the front of her basque, he snapped, “Leave it.”
Again she smiled behind her cat mask, happy she’d made the right choice.
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www.anitaphilmar.com
