Tag Archives: vikings

Author Spotlight – Ashe Barker has brought her sexy viking to visit

Her Celtic Captor

“If you require a demonstration of my power over you I shall be delighted to oblige you. A few strokes of my belt should do the job.”

Blurb:

As the sister of a powerful Viking chief, Brynhild Freysson is used to giving orders and having them obeyed, which makes it all the more difficult to accept when she suddenly finds herself at the mercy of a Celtic warrior intent on bringing her back to his village whether she likes it or not.

Taranc was a leader of his people before he was taken captive by Viking raiders, and now that he is a free man once more he has no intention of allowing a headstrong Norse woman to slow down his journey home with her stubborn disobedience. When Brynhild refuses to do as she is told, he wastes no time in baring her bottom for a thorough switching, and he makes it quite clear that she can expect even more painful and humiliating punishments if she continues to defy him.

Though her hatred of the Celts runs deep, Taranc’s stern dominance awakens desires in Brynhild that she thought she would never feel again, and when he takes her in his arms and claims her properly it is more pleasurable than she would have thought possible. But though her passion for him grows by the day, can she ever truly love a man whose people are enemies of her own?

Publisher’s Note: Her Celtic Captor is a stand-alone sequel to Her Rogue Viking and Her Dark Viking. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book

Buy Links

Amazon US:

Amazon UK:

Read Chapter 1 for free

Excerpt (18+)

Taranc bowed politely to Brynhild. “Lady, ” he murmured as be bent to wind Njal’s line around his pole.

He expected Brynhild to stalk off after her nephew, but she did not. Instead, she remained where she stood, her eyes narrowed in a malevolent glare which remained fixed upon him as he busied himself clearing up his own fishing rod. That task accomplished he attached each of the three landed fish to hooks from Njal’s bag in readiness to hang them from his own belt for the journey back to the slave barn. All set to leave himself, he made to pass the still fuming Norsewoman.

“You will excuse me,” he murmured.

“Why?”

He glanced at her, surprised. “Because I am leaving.”

“I mean, why are you spending time with my nephew. What do you plan to do?”

“Plan? Nothing.” Well, nothing that concerns the boy, at least. “He is lonely, and curious. There is no harm in him. And I mean him no ill.”

“I do not believe you.”

Taranc’s slender patience frayed. “And I do not care what you believe. Good night.”

She moved fast, he would allow her that much. He barely even saw the slender hand which snaked from within the confines of her cloak to land a resounding slap across his cheek, and certainly he had no opportunity to dodge that first blow. Not so the second. As she drew back her hand to strike him again he grabbed her wrist and squeezed, only relaxing his grip marginally when she let out a startled squeal.

“I shall let the first slap go, since you are a woman and no doubt consider yourself provoked. But you shall not raise your hand to me again, lady, lest you wish to find yourself upended across my lap and spanked. Do I make myself clear on this?”

“How dare you? Let go of me! I shall—”

“Do I make myself clear?” His grip remained firm despite her frantic tugging to be free.

At last, with no other choice if she was to be released, Brynhild gave a sharp nod. “Very well, I shall not slap you.”

“Excellent decision. And I shall not spank you. This time. Instead…”

He bent his head, lowered his face to hers. Taranc took in the startled expression, the widening of her kingfisher-blue eyes as his mouth descended to brush across hers. Despite his words of just moments ago he was without doubt inviting another slap and the Viking woman could hardly be blamed for delivering it.

Her mouth was soft under his, her breath warm in the cool evening. She parted her lips as though unable to prevent her artless response and his tongue found the seam of her mouth. She opened fractionally more, and it was enough. He slipped his tongue between her lips and caressed the inner surface of her teeth with the tip.

Her hands were on his shoulders, and she clung to him, her fingers curling into his rough tunic. The sane part of his mind expected a protest, expected her to shive him away, to screech her outrage, to summon her guards but the madness which drove him now ignored all of that.

What am I doing? I don’t even like this haughty, cruel woman.

His cock disagreed. His rampant erection liked her perfectly well and tented his pants in instant recognition of the Norsewoman’s ample charms. He deepened the kiss, tunnelling his fingers through her blonde locks to hold her head still. Brynhild let out a soft moan, followed by a gasp. Now, at last and somewhat belatedly, she stiffened in his arms and sought to be free.

Fuck!

Taranc broke the kiss and released her, his own breath less than steady. Brynhild backed away, her stunned expression one he found he did not entirely care for.

“You… you should not have done that.”

Probably not.

“Why…? I do not understand…”

Neither did he.

“Go! Go Back to the slave barn. Now!”

A decent plan, at last.

Taranc stepped back to execute an exaggerated bow. “Sleep well, Lady Brynhild.”

More about Ashe Barker

 

USA Today best-selling author Ashe Barker has been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. She still loves reading, the hotter the better. But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure – research.

Ashe tends to draw on her own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to her plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.

Ashe lives in the North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors and enjoys the occasional flirtation with pole dancing and drinking Earl Grey tea. When not writing – which is not very often these days – her time is divided between her role as taxi driver for her teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, tortoises.  And a very grumpy cockatiel.

At the last count Ashe had over forty titles on general release with publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and several more in the pipeline. She writes M/f, M/M, and occasionally rings the changes with a little M/M/f. Ashe’s books invariably feature BDSM. She writes explicit stories, always hot, but offering far more than just sizzling sex. Ashe likes to read about complex characters, and to lose herself in compelling plots, so that’s what she writes too.

Ashe has a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keeps thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from her.

Ashe loves to hear from readers. Here are her social media links:

Newsletter sign-up

www.ashebarker.com

Facebook

Twitter

Instagram

Pinterest

Goodreads

Or you can email her direct on ashe.barker1@gmail.com

Author Spotlight – Ashe Barker is here with Her Dark Viking

Her Dark Viking

He saw her. He wanted her. So he returned to take her

Blurb

After she is captured by Viking raiders, twenty-five-year-old Mairead is left with no choice but to depend on Gunnar Freysson, the battle-hardened leader of the Norsemen, to protect her and her young children. Though he makes it clear that she is his property to do with as he pleases, Gunnar shows remarkable concern for Mairead’s wellbeing, and when she risks her life in a dangerous attempt at escape he does not hesitate to strip her bare and spank her soundly.

The strict punishment leaves Mairead thoroughly ashamed yet helplessly aroused, and when Gunnar takes her in his arms and claims her properly she cannot deny her body’s response to his dominant lovemaking. As the days pass, Mairead realizes that Gunnar cares for her deeply, and despite her situation she finds herself falling in love with the stern, handsome warrior. But can she truly give her heart to the man who took her from her home?

Publisher’s Note: Her Dark Viking is a stand-alone sequel to Her Rogue Viking. It includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.

Buy Links 

Amazon US
Amazon UK
Read Chapter 1 for free

Excerpt  (18+)

Would a spanking hurt as much as his belt had? Did he perhaps intend to use his belt again? He had not said, she simply assumed he would–

“Lie across my lap and lift up your sark.”

He interrupted her musings with his curt instruction. Gunnar had seated himself on the edge of the bed, where just a few moments ago Donald had sat. The Viking regarded her over his shoulder, his eyes as dark as she had ever seen them and his expression stern.

She had questions, her head brimmed with them, but she supposed all would be answered soon enough. He kept his belt on, which was a relief she supposed. Mairead slipped from the bed and came around to stand before him.

“Shall I take this off?” She plucked at the fabric at the front of her undershirt.

“No. I want you to get in position then raise the sark for me. You will get yourself ready, bare your bottom for me to spank.”

Oh, sweet Jesu. Something coiled and tingled between her legs, and she sensed a fluttering within which she could not quite name but she knew her most private places were dampening at his words. It would have been difficult to remove her clothing for him, but she had done it once and could manage again. This different approach of his was more intense, more humiliating. She was to aid in her own punishment by arranging herself just so.

“Mairead, do not keep me waiting.”

“No, Jarl.” She almost flung herself across his thighs, her head dangling down by his boot and her hair sweeping the floor. She dreaded what she must do next but wanted to get it over with so she reached back to grab the hem of her linen shirt and hastily pulled it up to her waist, then tucked the bulk of the material under her stomach to ensure it remained in place. She was horribly embarrassed, prayed that no one would see fit to open the curtain and see her thus. Had Aigneis managed to get Donald out of the longhouse in time?

“What are you thinking?” His tone was soft, and she took courage from that.

“I am afraid someone will hear, or come in.”

“They might, but there is nothing you can do about any of that now. None of what is to happen to you is under your control so you might as well let it go. Relax, if you can, and surrender.”

“I do not mean to fight you, Jarl. Or to struggle.”

“I know that.” He laid one warm, solid palm on her bottom and rubbed a large circle around her left cheek. “I was thinking more of what is happening in your head. You need only to feel this, not think overmuch about it.”

“I… I will try, Jarl.” Her voice fell to a breathy whisper. Her bottom was still tender from yesterday and as he pressed her delicate skin those sensations returned. How much more punishment could she take?

“You know why this is happening.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I disobeyed you.”

“Yes, though I now rather think you misunderstood my instruction rather than deliberately disobeyed. You should have checked, asked me to clarify.”

“I will, Jarl. Next time.”

“I shall make sure of it. So, are you ready?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I am ready.”

The first volley of spanks were light, teasing almost. Gunnar rained slaps down on both her buttocks, covering the sensitive globes and causing her to clench and writhe on his lap, but not to cry out. It was painful, but not overly so and there was pleasure in it too, especially when he paused to caress her smarting skin. Now she moaned, but in startled delight rather than pain.

“You like that?”

She nodded, but then realised he may not have seen her. “Yes, Jarl.”

“Will you spread your legs for me?”

“Of course.” On one level, she had no choice, he would make her do as he wanted though he did phrase the command most politely. But on another this was exactly what she desired, what she had hoped for. Punishment, submission, sensuality – these were a heady mix and she no longer knew quite how to separate them, or even if she wished to. So she parted her thighs and lay still.

“So pretty, and so wet.” He slid his hand between her thighs and stroked her soaking folds. Mairead tensed under the sudden wave of lust which seemed to engulf her. “Did I hurt you?” His voice was soft now, and achingly seductive.

“No, it was … more pleasant than I remembered.”

“I see. And this?” Now he toyed with the pleasure nub he had awakened yesterday. Mairead stuffed her fist in her mouth in an attempt not to squeal out loud.

“Answer me. Is this nice.”

“Mmmmm.”

Her muffled response clearly did not suffice. He dropped two hard slaps, one on each buttock. “I expect you to talk to me, to answer if I ask you a question. If you do not understand what I want of you, you may tell me that since I know our tongue is still new to you.”

“It is very nice, Jarl.” She blurted the reply out fast, fearing another onslaught of slaps and craving them at the same time.

“And this?” Now he circled her entrance with his finger tip.

“That too, Jarl. It feels so good…”

“This?” His finger entered her, just to the first knuckle she thought. “Any pain?”

“No, it feels wonderful. Perhaps you might… I mean, maybe a little more?”

“Can I trust you to tell me if I hurt you?”

“You have hurt me. You are spanking me, Jarl. It is meant to hurt, is it not?”

“The spanking, yes. Not this.” He swirled his finger between the swollen, sensitive lips. “You only gave birth a month ago.”

“I am healed, truly I am. The birth was easy, and… oh! Ooooh.” She let out a sob as he slid his whole finger into her.

“Tell me, Mairead. Is this painful?”

“No. No, it is … wonderful. Please do not stop.”

“Greedy wench. You will take your spanking; then, if I am satisfied you have learnt better manners, I will give you what you desire.”

More about Ashe Barker

USA Today best-selling author Ashe Barker has been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. She still loves reading, the hotter the better. But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure – research.

Ashe tends to draw on her own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to her plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.

Ashe lives in the North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors and enjoys the occasional flirtation with pole dancing and drinking Earl Grey tea. When not writing – which is not very often these days – her time is divided between her role as taxi driver for her teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, tortoises.  And a very grumpy cockatiel.

At the last count Ashe had over forty titles on general release with publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and several more in the pipeline. She writes M/f, M/M, and occasionally rings the changes with a little M/M/f. Ashe’s books invariably feature BDSM. She writes explicit stories, always hot, but offering far more than just sizzling sex. Ashe likes to read about complex characters, and to lose herself in compelling plots, so that’s what she writes too.

Ashe has a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keeps thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from her.

Ashe loves to hear from readers. Here are her social media links:

Newsletter sign-up
www.ashebarker.com
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Pinterest
Goodreads
Or you can email her direct on ashe.barker1@gmail.com

Author Spotlight – Ashe Barker

Her Rogue Viking

Will she submit to the fierce Rogue Viking who has abducted her and enslaved her people?

I have always been fascinated by Vikings. Strong, sexy warriors, ruthless, dominant and determined – what’s not to like? It was only a matter of time before I wove a story around these fierce raiders who rampaged through Scotland and England for over three centuries, eventually settling and leaving their indelible mark on our history.

A Viking raid was indeed a ferocious affair. They relied on what would nowadays probably be termed ‘shock and awe’ swooping in from the sea on their fast dragon ships to attack with vicious and deadly effect. The Nordic raiders would be gone almost as swiftly as they arrived, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. The modern equivalent would be a helicopter attack on a sleepy rural village by SWAT teams armed with automatic weapons– the local people would hardly know what hit them.

I have employed a certain amount of poetic license, but I was determined to recreate the Viking era to the best of my ability – their homes, their clothing, what they ate, how they lived. I hope readers will be as entranced as I am by these creative and charismatic raiders, and perhaps forgive them their more outrageous little foibles.

  • Stormy Night, 2017
  • Released 2 April 2017
  • Historical erotic romance, Viking romance
  • Approximately 76,000 words
  • HEA ending

Blurb
Though Fiona puts up a brave fight when her village is raided by Vikings, she ends up being carried off over the broad shoulders of Ulfric Freysson, the leader of the Norsemen. The stern, ruggedly handsome warrior quickly makes it clear that she belongs to him now, and her best efforts to escape merely earn Fiona a painful, humiliating switching on her bare bottom.

Her captor’s bold dominance sets Fiona’s passion ablaze, and when he brings her to his bed she cannot help begging for him to claim her completely. As Ulfric begins training her to please him in any way he demands, Fiona finds herself falling in love with her new master, but she soon realizes that there are those among his people who still see her as an enemy. When her life is threatened by a member of his own family, will he stand ready to protect her no matter the cost?

Publisher’s Note: Her Rogue Viking includes spankings and sexual scenes. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book

 Buy Links 

 Amazon 

 Read Chapter 1 for free

Excerpt (18+)
Ulfric carried her to the fallen tree and set her down beside it, taking care to allow her to lower her good leg first. Then, still ensuring that her weight remained on her uninjured foot, Ulfric helped Fiona to turn and face the trunk, then eased her torso forward until she was balanced across it. The furs and blanket provided a soft cushion. Fiona could find no reason to complain that her comfort was not considered as Ulfric patted her soon-to-be-punished bottom.

“I will lift you a little higher, to ensure that your feet are off the ground and taking no weight, and to offer me a better target, naturally.” He did not wait for any further comment from Fiona. In moments she was dangling over the tree trunk, her feet inches from the bare earth and her head and shoulders balancing her weight on the other side. The grass and a light dusting of fallen leaves were just inches from her nose but she could just make out their shapes in the gathering gloom as she quivered in this unfamiliar and vulnerable position.

Her father had been no disciplinarian. In all her nineteen summers no one had ever so much as slapped her wrist, let alone bent her over a fallen tree for a public switching. Fiona wondered if it was possible to die of humiliation.

She managed not to whimper as her skirts were raised above her waist, then tucked under the woven braid that served as a belt. Fiona was acutely aware of the half dozen or so Viking warriors who had gathered to observe the proceedings. They were all now afforded a fine view of her upturned, naked buttocks. She was glad she could not decipher the exact meaning of their calls and remarks, though the general gist was plain enough.

The jocularity ceased abruptly at a word from Ulfric. The men remained in place, watching, but they no longer offered their lewd observations.

Fiona was accustomed to harsh winters, but the bitter chill of this Nordic early evening was equal to anything she could recall in her own country. She shivered as the icy breeze caressed her bare backside and could not help clenching as Ulfric bent to select the first switch.

“Fear not, little wench. You shall soon be feeling a good deal warmer.” He swung the switch in an experimental arc, slow at first, then fast enough to produce an ominous whistle. Fiona shrieked.

Ulfric chuckled and moved in close. He laid the palm of his free hand on her bottom, the caress almost affectionate. “Try not to clench, though I realise it is difficult. Are you ready?”

There was nothing to be gained by delaying matters. Fiona nodded, then clenched her bound hands into fists as she tensed for the first stroke.

“Aagh!” She let out a shrill scream as fire exploded across her right buttock. Her entire body jerked with the force of the blow, though she had been expecting it. This hurt though, more than she had ever imagined.

“One,” Ulfric intoned. “Be still, Celt. Settle down and we shall continue.”

Somehow, through the haze of pain, she heard his words and managed to obey. Moments later fire snaked across her left cheek.

“Ooh!” Sweet Jesus, can I bear this?

“Two. Now relax, you do not wish to drag this out, I am sure.”

He was right, she did not. Fiona willed her tense muscles to soften and drew in a shuddering breath.

“Three. Four.”

She was managing the pain just slightly better now, no longer so shocked by the intensity of sensation. She managed not to cry out, and needed no further reminders to keep her buttocks soft.

“That is good. Five. Six. Seven.”

Fiona writhed against the blanket. Despite her determination to bear this ordeal with fortitude she was unable to remain still, nor could she contain her tears that flowed unchecked across her face.

Ulfric paused to once again lay his palm over her throbbing backside. Her bottom was on fire and she flinched under his touch though he was not rough with her.

“You are doing well. Just three more to go. Shall I continue, Fiona?”

No! Enough! “Yes. Please, just finish this and let me get up.”

#eroticromance #ashebarker #discipline #dominance #spanking #Vikingromance #Vikings #historicalromance

Author Interview

  1. So, tell us a bit more about Ulfric. He’s a stern and sexy Viking chief, with a twitchy palm, but what else is there to know?
    Well, I think you just about covered the basics there. Ulfric has a strong sense of family loyalty but that is tested sorely in this book. He has a difficult choice to make, but he is a man who doesn’t shirk his duty and ultimately he will do what he thinks is right for those he loves – whether they like it or not.
  2. How many books have you written? Are they all historical or spanking fiction?
    I have over forty titles out now, and they are all erotic stories. About a dozen of them are historical novels. Some have more of a BDSM vibe going on and some are spanking/domestic discipline. At first I wrote just contemporary stories, then I started adding a few historicals and sci-fis. I love the variety.
  3. Do you see writing as a career?
    Yes. I try to be fairly ordered about it. I like to be at my desk (well, more accurately the kitchen table) laptop fired up and coffee to hand, by nine in the morning and I tend to write for most of the day then. There are also a lot of related tasks to keep on top of, mainly to do with promo or research, or keeping in touch with readers and other authors. It’s definitely a full-time job for me.
  4. If you had to describe yourself using three words, it would be…Resilient. Creative. Calm.
  5. What would you do if you were the last person on this earth?
    Turn out the lights.More about Ashe BarkerUSA Today best-selling author Ashe Barker has been an avid reader of fiction for many years, erotic and other genres. She still loves reading, the hotter the better. But now she has a good excuse for her guilty pleasure – research.

    Ashe tends to draw on her own experience to lend colour, detail and realism to her plots and characters. An incident here, a chance remark there, a bizarre event or quirky character, any of these can spark a story idea.

    Ashe lives in the North of England, on the edge of the Brontë moors and enjoys the occasional flirtation with pole dancing and drinking Earl Grey tea. When not writing – which is not very often these days – her time is divided between her role as taxi driver for her teenage daughter, and caring for a menagerie of dogs, tortoises.  And a very grumpy cockatiel.

    At the last count Ashe had over forty titles on general release with publishers on both sides of the Atlantic, and several more in the pipeline. She writes M/f, M/M, and occasionally rings the changes with a little M/M/f. Ashe’s books invariably feature BDSM. She writes explicit stories, always hot, but offering far more than just sizzling sex. Ashe likes to read about complex characters, and to lose herself in compelling plots, so that’s what she writes too.

    Ashe has a pile of story ideas still to work through, and keeps thinking of new ones at the most unlikely moments, so you can expect to see a lot more from her.

    Ashe loves to hear from readers. Here are her social media links:

    Newsletter sign-up
    www.ashebarker.com
    Facebook
    Twitter
    Instagram
    Pinterest
    Goodreads

    Or you can email her direct on ashe.barker1@gmail.com