I've been working on a new release for a year now and Hanky Spanky is finally available for purchase. Getting good cover art is always a challenge. Sometimes your view and the artist’s view don’t agree. But I swear that Dar Albert is psychic. She seems to know what I want and she’s willing to work with me to get the design right. Her web site is: http://www.wickedsmartdesigns.com/ just in case you’re looking for a cover artist too!
What should you know about Hanky Spanky? Hmmmm… It’s a contemporary BDSM erotic romance with a BBW heroine and the love scenes are as hot as a habanero.
I find love scenes to be some of the most challenging scenes for me to write and Hanky Spanky has a LOT of love scenes. Grin. When I write a love scene, I want it to be more than “tab a fits into slot b”. I want emotion for both the hero and the heroine and I think I achieved that in Hanky Spanky. The ending was also a real challenge. I swear I rewrote it several times and I hate rewrites. But now, I believe I’ve got it right. Once I finished the story, I was pleased with the end result, and so proud of myself for working through the challenges to create a fun and sexy new book for my readers.
Karen Eckberg has spent months in front of a webcam, writhing and moaning, dutifully performing to Master Lars’ voiced commands. She’s sexually alive for the first time in her life but when her perfect Dom turns out to be none-other than her high school crush “Aw Shucks” Andy Larson, life takes an even more sensual turn than she’d ever expected.
Karen is everything Andy Larson has ever wanted in a sub, achingly responsive and eager to please her Master in every way. Unfortunately, their red-hot affair both in and out of the dungeon draws unwanted attention from his possessive ex-wife fueling Andy’s protective streak.
And now there's no safe word that can protect Karen from a woman scorned.
Oh, God. It was Andy. “Nothing. Just girl talk. Did you need something?” Damn him, he always managed to move so quietly. She hoped he hadn’t heard anything important…or incriminating.
“Yes, I need something.”
She looked up into his smiling blue eyes, clenching her toes to hide any other reaction to him. His eyes were uncharacteristically intense. She didn’t think he was capable of looking at anything but his sugar beet fields like that.
“Well? What do you need?”
Karen sat up, her jaw dropping open. “What?”
“I want to dance.”
Why did she have to feel disappointed? She should know better by now. He’d never shown one iota of interest before, so she shouldn’t hope for anything now.
“No one’s stopping you, Andy,” she raised her brows and waved him onto the floor, using sarcasm as a weapon and a defense.
His eyes darkened and his lips tightened. “I meant, would you dance with me?”
“Me?” Shit. Her voice sounded breathy and excited and it had always been like this for her. Her belly dropped and filled with butterflies. She’d always wanted him and maybe she always would, but she had her Sir to think of now. She cleared her throat, determined to sound in command. “You want to dance with me?”
He just nodded and held out his hand. His very large, long fingered, work callused hand. God, she loved his hands. Her nipples tightened so painfully she wanted to cuss.
“Go on, Karen. He won’t leave until you do.” Hannah grinned. “You’re one stubborn Swede, Andy.”
“Yah. That’s what I am all right,” he replied in a lilting faux-Swedish accent.
“Right. Let’s get it over with then.” Karen stood and took his warm hand, reluctantly.
Not only did her belly fill with butterflies as he led her to the dance floor, but now her pussy dampened. It wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t have to fight her lifelong attraction to the favorite son of the town’s founding family on the night before she met her new Sir in person.
She didn’t want a reminder of her past and completely futile infatuation, but here he stood in all his glory. Andy was the image of the All American boy. Well, the Scandinavian version anyway. Short, wheat blonde hair, sky blue eyes and a ready smile. They stopped on the dance floor and stared at each other.
“Well, come here then,” he grumbled, pulling her into his arms and gazing into her eyes. His deep voice turned her on, damn him.
She tried to maintain a physical distance between them as they started to rotate in time to a slow song. Being the strong, silent type, he didn’t say anything else, yet the silence wasn’t awkward. Karen liked that he listened more than he talked. That he was cautious—as though he measured his words for the impact they had. But he always seemed self-effacing because he had a tendency to dip his head when he was thinking. But seemed was the operative word. His actions disarmed people, made them think he wasn’t all that smart, but she knew different.
“Well, aren’t you going to put your arms around me too, Karen?”
She blinked and lifted her arms to his broad, muscled shoulders. Unfortunately for her libido, as her breasts pressed firmly to his hard chest her tender nipples chafed against her bra leaving them peaked – taut and needy. He tried to pull her closer, but Karen drew back, trying to ease the torture to her nipples. She was so primed for tomorrow night. So ready for her Sir’s pleasure, and her own, that stimulation of any kind almost hurt.
Andy stroked the small of her back and Karen gasped. His lightest touch went right to her clit, making it throb. Why did she have to want him as much as she had in high school? Andy had been the football captain and an all-around star athlete. Not only that, he had dated then married the most popular girl, Debbie Markham, the head cheerleader. The surprise was the divorce five years later.
One day they were together, the next Andy graduated college and came home alone leaving Debbie in the cities. When they split, Karen heard speculation that Andy was gay, but if there was one thing Karen was sure about, it was that Andy Larson was as straight as one of his rows of sugar beets.
Andy leaned closer and she tried to back off again. His breath smelled good…hadn’t he been drinking a beer earlier? She hated the smell of beer, but somehow he managed to smell good anyway. He tugged her against him as the slow song continued to play. His hands cradled her waist, yet she could feel the power in his touch. His thigh slid between hers, rubbing her pussy with every step he took as they slowly turned in a circle on the crowded dance floor.
Her breath caught in her throat and she closed her eyes. The pressure of his thigh drove her crazy and she wanted to thrust against him. He dragged her closer and his hand slid from the middle of her back down the slope to rest at the top of her ass. His hold was firm; commanding.
Where did that come from? She had to stop. Sir Lars would kill her if she came, and she was getting damn close. Sir. She had to think about him. Save her orgasms for him. He was what she wanted in a man.
His Fetlife profile showed a hard bodied, tan man with a flogger in his hand but the photo showed only his bare chest and broad shoulders. Tantalizing her imagination.
After they started chatting online she'd asked to see his face but no matter how often she asked to see what he looked like, he refused. When she consented to turn on her web cam, she asked to see him too, but he said he didn’t have a web cam for his computer. It didn’t matter because his commands set her on fire.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” Andy murmured, his breath brushing her ear as he leaned close.
Karen shivered. She imagined Andy would sound like that when he was in bed with a woman and the thought tightened her pussy on an imaginary cock she wished was buried inside her. Sir’s cock. That’s right. Not Andy’s. Never Andy’s.
“Stuff? What kind of stuff? You can tell me, we’ve known each other forever.”
She leaned away from him to look up into his eyes. “We may have known each other since high school, Andy. But you don’t really know me at all.”
“Don’t I?” He purred and his arm tightened again.
Karen found herself cradled against his body. Touching from head to foot. Riding his muscular thigh. Karen struggled to back away but he was stronger than she was and his forceful grip turned her on even more than she already was. Every time he took a step toward her, his leg prodded her pussy. She tried to fight her reaction. Regulate her breathing, but it didn’t help. Nothing did.
About the Author
Francesca HawleyHi. I’m Francesca Hawley and I’m a fat chick. A woman with dangerous curves just like my heroines.
Many people don’t like the word, “fat” but I do because it’s the truth and I’ve learned to own it. I am a fat chick and I always will be. When I first began to read romance, the heroines were all thin. I kept wondering, where were the fat heroines? I wanted to read about a fat chick who loved herself—or at least learned to love herself—and a hot alpha hero who liked her jiggly bits just the way they were. Since I didn’t find many big girls to read about, I decided to write about them, so Francesca Hawley – author of Romance with Dangerous Curves was born.
In a Francesca Hawley romance, my readers will find authentic, sensual, plus size heroines who love and are loved by their intense, passionate, and seductive Alpha heroes. I hope you enjoy their dangerous curves just as much as their hunky heroes do.
Web site: http://www.francescahawley.com
Good Reads: https://www.goodreads.com/FrancescaHawley