Tag Archives: The Spectrum Auctions

Taken by the Biker Dom #NewRelease from Doris (@mamad8)#BDSM #TheSpectrumAuctions

Happy Monday, folks, Doris here with a shameless look at my new release post. 🙂

Taken by the Biker Dom released last Monday and is book six in my Club Spectrum series. Readers seem to like Micah and Sandie so far.


So without further ado, here it is.

[Siren Classic: Erotic Consensual BDSM Romantic Suspense, bondage, sex toys, HEA]

Falling in love had never been the plan…

Turning forty tends to make any woman evaluate her life. For Sandie Buckley, it was the catalyst to escape her mentally abusive husband and to explore her needs and desires. Her first step in that quest was returning to her work as a pediatric nurse. The second step: become a member at Club Spectrum. Third step: get the attention of Micah Flaherty. And that’s where her plan falls short.

Biker paramedic Micah is drawn to the curvy, wannabe subbie with attitude from the minute he shows her around the club. However, getting involved with the typical ex-corporate wife ready to take a walk on the wild side is out of the question…until Sandie’s past catches up with her.

Micah can’t help but step up to claim Sandie as his. No one harms his woman. It seems to be the only way to keep the infuriating woman safe, and besides—their off-the-charts chemistry needs further exploring.

Buy it from Bookstrand



“So sue me.” Micah’s clipped tones shook Sandie out of her lust-fueled thoughts about what he must look like under that tee. “When is the doctor coming to check these? She ought to be discharged today, right?”

“As to that, I couldn’t say for sure. Not unless Ms. Buckley has someone to look after her at home.”

“Do you?” Micah turned so suddenly to address her. It meant Sandie’s world tilted anew. Not only because of the clear challenge in his voice but because he glared at her, as though he was angry. Why was he angry? That made no sense at all. He ought to be glad she was being discharged so that he could be free of her. Surely it was only a misguided sense of Domly duty toward her that had him stay this long in the first place?

Before she could get her befuddled brain to compute an answer, which wouldn’t give away her foolish emotions toward this man, her gaze snared on the slogan on the front of his tee. Emblazoned in bold white lettering was Being a paramedic saved me from becoming a porn star.

Naturally, her gaze immediately slid lower to the rather impressive bulge his worn jeans hugged so lovingly.

Sandie?” His question held a note of censure, and she wrenched her gaze back up to his face. His blue eyes crinkled in amusement as he winked at her. Heat rose in her cheeks when she realized he’d caught her staring, and no doubt her feelings were written all over her face.

Of course he’d noticed. That man never missed a thing at the club, so why would he be any different in his private life?

“What?” Somehow she got that one word out.

With a sigh, Micah perched his delectable butt on the edge of her bed and took her hand.

“Have you got anyone who is able to look after you when you’re discharged? You’ll need watching for a few days.”

“I…that is…”

Sandie gave up trying to make her voice to work, and simply shook her head.

Nurse Peters flicked through her notes and intervened.

“It lists a Matthew Dawson as your next of kin in your notes, Ms. Buckley, and—”

“No!” Her sharp and immediate retort ricocheted around her brain like an out-of-control ping pong ball. That had been far too vehement a response, and sure enough, Micah’s muscles coiled in her peripheral vision. He nudged her chin up with his hand and she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. Being under this close and intense scrutiny by him made her feel as though he could look right into her soul, which was a far too fanciful notion.

In an effort for damage control, she wrenched her gaze away from his and addressed her nurse.

“I mean, no, he shouldn’t even still be listed. Please, I don’t want him here.”

Nurse Peters frowned but inclined her head in silent agreement.

“Okay then, I’ll make sure that’s passed on, but he might have been called already. Come to think of it, I’m surprised he hasn’t shown here before now. Next of kin are informed the minute a patient is admitted, as you know, of course. Forgive me, I’m rambling now. It’s just odd, but if you don’t want him here, I’ll pass that on.”

Her nurse’s words made Sandie’s throat clog up with unshed tears. The mere thought of her ex in this room, seeing her this vulnerable, it was too much. She was vaguely aware of the monitors going crazy again before Micah firmed his hold on her chin.

“Hey, kitten, eyes on me.” He dropped his voice to the one he’d used in her nightmare, the one she couldn’t help but respond to, its gravelly cadence almost a growl which left her no choice but to look at him. He smiled when their gazes connected, and the hold on her chin turned into a caress. “That’s my girl. You’re safe here, okay? Whoever that is will not—”

“He’s my ex-husband.” Sandie bit her lip and her insides clenched in horror at her faux pas. You simply didn’t interrupt your Dom, and she was fast beginning to realize that he was very much in Dom mode here. Much to her relief, Micah let it go and simply nodded.

“I see.”

Sandie swallowed down the threatening tears and shook her head.

“No, you don’t see. He’s…well…”

Her throat went dry and the mere act of pulling breath in through her nose was proving difficult when Micah’s jaw tensed. He looked utterly furious right now.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked. His concern for her made her forget everything but the need to show this man the proper respect due.

“No, at least not in the way you think, Sir.” His eyes flashed when that title slipped out, and his hand slipped to her throat in a gentle hold of possession which made Sandie feel utterly safe with him. Nurse Peters cleared her throat and Sandie jumped. Talk about making a spectacle of yourself. Micah smirked, released his hold on her, and ran a hand through his dark hair. It made the slightly too-long strands stand up and give him that just-out-of-bed look.

“Right, well, that will complicate matters somewhat. If there’s no one to take care of you, then we’ll have to keep you in for observation for at least another day.”

“She does have someone.” Micah turned to address the nurse. “She has me. She can come home and stay with me.”

Sandie’s gasp in answer seemed too loud even over the sudden roaring in her eyes. She couldn’t have heard him right? Why on earth was he claiming responsibility for her? It couldn’t mean what every fiber in her aching body screamed at her. He hadn’t just claimed her…had he?


Sandie had proved beautifully responsive to everything he had done to and with her so far, and she particularly seemed to like his dirty talk.

With that in mind, he positioned himself at the end of the bed and dropped his voice to the low rumble she seemed utterly incapable of resisting.

“Such a beautiful sight, kitten. I can see every little clench of your greedy hole, begging me for my cock. You want me to stretch that hole, don’t you? Plunge my dick deep inside you and fuck you hard. My balls slapping your ass, and your tits bouncing in front of my face, until you come all over my junk and soak us both.”

An incomprehensible sound came from his Sandie, and the grip on her ankles grew white-knuckled as she struggled to stay still. Mouth open, eyes wild, she begged him with her gaze, as she squirmed as much as she could, and the sheets under her bum grew wet with her juices.

“Please, Sir. Anything, just do something, please.”

Micah dropped the ropes in his hand on the bottom of his bed, and nipple clamps held up, stepped closer to her.

Her gaze snared on the objects and her breathing grew shallow. Little whimpers escaped her lips as he trailed the cool metal of the clamps over her gorgeous tits.

“Oh, I am, kitten. I want you to imagine yourself with your nipples clamped by these.” He opened and shut the butterfly clamps, and Sandie groaned. A deep-throated sound that told him how close she was already. Her responsiveness was such a fucking turn-on.

“Can you feel them tightening around these buds? Making you acutely aware of them, as I tug and position them, pull on them to lift up your rack.” He followed his words with action, and Sandie screwed her eyes shut and bit her lip, as he attached first one and then the other clamp, tightened them until she groaned, and then gently pulled at the chain linking them together.

Her eyes flew open and her mouth opened in a silent scream, as her body shook in need. She let go of her ankles, and Micah took over and grasped them for her, keeping her open to his gaze. Another one of those moans came from her when he blew across her hugely engorged clit and licked across that bundle just once.

“God, please, I need to… Argh.”

Micah bit down hard on the inside of one ample thigh, and his girl jerked her hips upward. Her hands went in his hair, and her sweet musk filled his nostrils.

“No coming without my say-so, kitten, or you’ll be going in that belt.” He pulled back to see her reaction and grinned at her glare in answer, as she desperately tried to control her breathing.

“I can’t…please.”

“You can, or you’ll be wearing the belt to the club tonight. Breathe and hold it for your Sir. Take your hands off me, too. Back on your ankles with them”

Sandie thumped her head back on the bed repeatedly, but she did release the tight grip on his hair and made a grab for her ankles. Little whimpers came from her, and an all-over body flush spoke of her need, as she tried her utmost to comply.

Pride filled Micah at her struggles and made his chest tight with emotion.

“That’s my very good girl. I’m going to tie you in my ropes now. Remember your safe words if this gets too much, sweetheart.”

Sandie raised her head slightly to look at him, and the desperate need to please he read in her warm hazel eyes made him feel ten feet tall. There it was, the connection he craved, and he smiled at her to show his approval.

“What color are you now?” he asked, and Sandie screwed her little nose up and groused at him

“Green, dammit…ouch.”

She jumped when he used the end of his length of rope to swat her breasts. The action left a thin red line behind, but watching her as closely as he was, he could tell it only served to pitch her deeper into the fevered state of aroused anticipation he wanted her in.

“Consider that a warning, kitten. I don’t appreciate a foul mouth when we’re in a scene.”

Sandie looked all set to argue, but then he slid the rope through her exposed pussy lips, and she groaned in need instead. Micah kept up the slow, sensuous slide along her slit, loving the way the hemp darkened with her arousal and the way his girl panted in need.

“When you’re fully recovered, I’ll tie you in a rope dress, with my rope centered right here.” He slid one end under her ass, brought it around, and tightened it across her clit as he spoke. Sandie gasped and tried to wriggle, but she didn’t let go of the tight grip she had on her ankles, and Micah murmured his approval.

“Good girl. For now, though, we’ll just tie you in nice and tight so that that beautiful cunt is mine for the taking. I think my little subbie would like that, wouldn’t you?”

He glanced up at her as he slid the rope across her skin repeatedly. With every knot, his girl slipped deeper into the space he wanted her to be. Her breathing evened, her eyes glazed over, and she drifted away, as he kept up his soothing murmurs, tightened and checked his knots until at long last her wrists were tied to her ankles. The ropes made a beautiful pattern across her pale skin, the ample flesh held in and molded across them.

“You’re beautiful, kitten, and I’m going to fuck you now.”



You can also check out an interview with Micah here.

That’s all from me today.

Do stay naughty, folks.

D xxx

Writer’s Block or simple can’t be arseditis? Monday Ramblings from Doris (@mamaD8)


Happy Monday, folks, Doris here with some ramblings. I’m pondering writer’s block today. What is it, and when do you know if you have it? That is the question.

You hear us writer types talk about it all the time, don’t you? It’s not an affliction I usually suffer from, I have to say, but at as we headed into 2016 I did wonder.

You see, pre-Christmas I had decided to take some much-needed time off over the holidays. I had a house full, as the two kids who’d flown the nest returned with their partners and of course all the usual humdrum of a busy household of nine with small children underfoot.

I enjoyed the break, didn’t miss writing one little bit in fact, which in itself is unusual, as I normally have at least one character in my head scrabbling to have his story told.

I had edits to do on two different stories, however, so that kept me busy, until the kids went back to school and I knew I had to knuckle down  and actually write something other than flashes.

What’s more I was on a deadline to get a Menage story to my editor for today, actually…

Should have been plain sailing, antho length, I knew the story, all I had to do is sit behind my keyboard and ….you know… WRITE.

That’s when my can’t be arseditis set in. You see, I’m a completely character driven Author, and I rely on the voices in my head, that dominant hero to breathe down my neck as I take dictation. In theory with the kids back at school I ought to be writing 2-3 K a day.

What was I doing instead? Playing games on Facebook, dong the *gasps* housework and when I did force myself to sit down and write, every word was like pulling teeth.

I can’t call it writer’s block, because the story was there, I just wasn’t FEELING it. As time ticked on and the most I manged to write in one session was a measly  1K I realized this just wasn’t going to happen.

The voices driving my writing just weren’t there. My muse had upped  and left for climates unknown. Boy, did I mope at being left behind. How dare she up with all the hot men and leave me behind with an empty head.

Oh, sure, I got snatches of ideas. A gazillion of different ideas, but not the urge to, you know, actually write them down.

It was only when I admitted defeat, and pulled out of that anthology, that the fog cleared. One voice stepped forward, belonging to Master Logan from The Spectrum Auctions.

It was this picture that had my muse return panting. Well, you can’t really blame her, can you David Gandy is such yummy hero material, after all.


ttt 12th


You can read the flash I wrote for this picture here.

Now, I’m not actually sure if that scene as it stands will make it into Logan’s story, which is now called Auctioned to the Gentle Dom, but the story now stands at 18.3 K, and as I wrote 9k just over the weekend just gone, I think it’s safe to say the voices are back. 🙂

I’m aiming to have it submitted by the second week of February, and as my fingers are flying, I should manage that.

So, what was it? Writer’s block, or cannot be arseditis? I’m not sure. I think it was just trying to write the wrong story. I’m sure I’ll get back to that menage story soon, when those characters actually want to have their story told.


Auctioned to the Protective Dom, book 4 in my Spectrum series is now available on Amazon. You’ll get to meet Master Logan for the first time in this story 🙂



[Siren Classic: Erotic Consensual BDSM Romance, flogging, food play, sex toys, HEA]

It’s a Dom’s job to protect his girl.

No one believes that more than Jonas Sorenson.So when he sees the shy little sub he has been trying to get close to for ages up for auction on the Club Spectrum stage, there’s only one Dom who will get her—him.

Rissa Nauenburg hates being the center of attention, so being on show in the auction proves too much for her. Caught in the middle of a panic attack, she has no time to appreciate the fact the one Dom she has been secretively lusting after for ages has won her.

Her distress makes Jonas more determined to protect her. It’s perfectly obvious to Jonas that someone in her past has hurt Rissa badly. Under the terms of the auction she is his for twenty four hours at least.

It’s game on to rebuild Rissa’s confidence and Jonas plays for keeps.

All Rissa has to do is let him…


Available from Bookstrand  and Amazon  Amazon UK


Stay naughty, now, folks,


D xxx

Happy New Year! Monday Ramblings, (Plagiarism and a Thank You!) from Doris (@mamaD8)

Happy New Year, lovely peeps 🙂

I love this time, when the New Year is young, and expectations are bright. Everyone is full of good intentions, even if most of those new year resolutions never last, lol.


For a long time now, one of my few New Year’s resolutions that I have managed to stick to is to simply carry on writing. To be honest, I couldn’t imagine not writing, as my muse constantly bombards me with story ideas. It’s one of the reasons why I always shake my head in wonder when we hear of another case of Plagiarism. I just don’t get it.

Why do that? Maybe I’m lucky, but, like I said ideas are never the problem here. If I did nothing but write all year, I wouldn’t manage to write everything my muse throws at me. Plot bunnies abound and breed like…. well bunnies… *snort*

So, what makes an author, and I use that term loosely here (because if you have to steal ideas, then you have no right to call yourself an author) plagiarise. And what makes them think , especially in this fast-moving age, that they will get away with it?

Invariably it is readers, who notice, and who alert a much-loved author that, actually, XYZ is passing your work of as theirs.

I can only imagine what that must feel like. The shock and betrayal of it all. As far as I’m aware no one has plagiarized my work, and hopefully, no one ever will. What makes it even worse though, is when it’s an author that you have read, whose work you’ve liked, whose cries of innocence you have believed.

Again, it hasn’t happened to me, though I have read authors who later turned out to be far from stellar people, and that is always a let down, but it has happened to friends of mine.

Again I shake my head and wonder what motivates people. One thing I cannot abide is a liar. I’ve met my fair share over the last year, both professionally and personally, and well….

Good riddance to bad rubbish as we say in the UK.

Fortunately my bullshit radar is pretty high, and I’ve long ago learnt to trust my gut. On the other hand I hate how cynical that can make you. I’ve always been one to see the good in people first, and to trust that most folks mean well, but that has been tested lately, and I’m afraid my inner bitch is quite quick to make an appearance these days, and once you rile my German temper… duck…


Seriously, though, folks never case to amaze me, in both good and bad ways, I have to say.

Which brings me to the Thank You(!) part of my post.

I’ve met many new readers over the last year, and I always get such a thrill when one contacts me to say how much they enjoyed one of my stories. My last release of 2015 was Auctioned to the Protective Dom, book 4 of my Spectrum Auctions series, and I’ve been utterly amazed and humbled by readers response to Jonas and Rissa’s story.

At the point of writing this, Auctioned to the Protective Dom is in its fourth week of occupying the #1 spot on the M/F Bestseller chart at Bookstrand. Auctioned to the Honorable Dom (Book 1) and Auctioned to Protect (Book 2) are also in the top 30 and have been for the last couple of weeks, so excuse me while a I do happy jig.


This is not a story I found easy to write. Jonas kept his cards close to his chest, and Rissa is a complicated woman, who had been deeply hurt in her past, and getting her to open up wasn’t easy. Once they did start talking to me, however, my fingers flew, and as the longest in the series so far, this is a book I’m very proud of. So to see it being embraced by readers is doubly sweet.

I am planning more in The Spectrum Auctions. Master Logan’s and Lindsey’s story will have quite a few surprises and twists and turns, that they’re slowly whispering to me…

It should be fun.

So, I’m looking forward to seeing what 2016 brings. So far I have two stories scheduled. The Dragon in the Stone, my twist on Beauty and the Beast is set for release sometime in January. I’m in a box set of D/s stories with some fantastic authors set for release in March, and right now I’m writing book 6 in my Projects series. The Polar Project is Stephan and Natasha’s story, and that bear shifter is one scarred, dominant, protective alpha who’ll fall hard for that little bumbling Siberian cat shifter. Of course, he doesn’t do so without fighting it every step of the way….

It’s fun torturing these Alphas, I tell you.

Stay naughty, now, folks, and if you haven’t checked out Auctioned to the Protective Dom yet… well, what are you waiting for?

*grins and blows kisses*



[Siren Classic: Erotic Consensual BDSM Romance, flogging, food play, sex toys, HEA]

It’s a Dom’s job to protect his girl.

No one believes that more than Jonas Sorenson.So when he sees the shy little sub he has been trying to get close to for ages up for auction on the Club Spectrum stage, there’s only one Dom who will get her—him.

Rissa Nauenburg hates being the center of attention, so being on show in the auction proves too much for her. Caught in the middle of a panic attack, she has no time to appreciate the fact the one Dom she has been secretively lusting after for ages has won her.

Her distress makes Jonas more determined to protect her. It’s perfectly obvious to Jonas that someone in her past has hurt Rissa badly. Under the terms of the auction she is his for twenty four hours at least.

It’s game on to rebuild Rissa’s confidence and Jonas plays for keeps.

All Rissa has to do is let him…

Available from Bookstrand