Leigh Smith came up with the best idea the other day. She and I are both still very new at this writing business. I think we both feel much more confident in our ability to tell a story than we feel in out ability to get the word out to those who might like to read it. Promoting can be tricky – you want to keep the word out that your books are out there, while not driving your friends away because you talk about them too much. So Leigh suggested we exchange a chapter from out latest books – we have many of the same friends and readers, but not all so hopefully we’ll both be exposed to those who might be new to our books.
Today, for Fantasy Friday, she is sharing a chapter from her newest book, Destiny Takes a Hand and on Monday she’ll post a chapter from Cassie’s River Living over at Aimless Rambling. Hopefully everyone wins, you’ll get two great stories and you might even find a book you might like. Sit back and enjoy…
From: Destiny Takes a Hand
Winter came early at this elevation, though it hadn’t been too bad so far. This was Sam’s first year of coping with the high country winter without her brother Seth around. He begged her to reconsider her decision to stay alone during the winter, but she remained adamant she could handle whatever came her way. Seth was a little over protective and still thought of her as the twelve-year-old girl. She was having none of it, after all, she argued she had been born and raised here, as had her ancestors before her.
Seth worked as a computer programmer for the government, needed constant internet access, and after commuting the last several years decided to take a place down the mountain. He could work from anywhere but the Internet was spotty, at best, during good weather but the winter posed a new set of challenges. Before departing for the flatlands, Seth helped her all summer and early fall gathering the things she would need to get her through the times she would be unable to get to town. He hoped it would be enough.
There was a foot of snow on the ground and more on the way. It had started snowing a couple of hours ago and was beginning to accumulate. She was bringing in an armload of firewood when she spotted someone walking up the path toward the house. Rarely did they have unexpected visitors this time of the year. Dropping the load of firewood and holding onto one of the larger logs, she whistled for her dog Sparky, who came running to her side. She felt safer with him there as the person approached. The stranger was very tall and leaning heavily on a crutch-like walking stick and accompanied by a large white dog. Sparky began to snarl as they came closer but stayed right next to her.
“Hello,” she yelled and maintained her stance. She was about thirty yards from the house and felt she could outrun him and lock herself inside if things worsened.
“Hello, I am so glad to see another person. About two miles back an elk ran across in front of me, and I swerved to avoid hitting it. He survived, but the truck didn’t. It’s in a ditch, and I can’t get it out. Whitey and I sat there about two hours, and not a soul came by. The cell phone service up here is spotty, and I didn’t have much juice. I was afraid we would freeze to death if we stayed with the truck any longer.”
“I’m not surprised there’s no one on the road. Most people have more sense than to head out with a storm coming. I’m not sure what you expect me to do. My truck has a wench, but it doesn’t seem smart to head out now.”
“I was hoping for someplace Whitey, and I could hole up in until the storm passed. I didn’t plan on being on the road either; we thought we would be down the mountain by now.”
“Did you plan on breaking in somewhere?” Who are you anyway? You are not from around here.”
“No, I didn’t plan on breaking in somewhere, but if it came to that I would have left a note and some money. I’m not a freeloader or a thief. My name is Christopher Chambers. My family inherited some property from a great uncle, and I was here to check it out. I came up two days ago. The weather was fine then.”
“Up this high, the weather can change on a dime. Who was your uncle? What’s wrong with your leg?”
“Which question would you like me to answer first?”
“Listen, mister. I’m not the one in a pickle. Quit being rude.”
“I wasn’t being rude, merely asking which questions you would like answered first. My great uncle was Michael Cameron. He owned a lodge up on Sutter’s Ridge, and I hurt my leg in the accident. I don’t think anything is broken, but I can’t put a lot of weight on my left foot. Does that answer your questions?”
“Are you talking about Sunrise Peak?”
“Yes, you know it.”
“Of course, I know it. I live here. That used to be something back in the day, or so I’ve heard. It’s been closed for years.”
“You really are pretty snippy, Ms. Fremont.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Contrary to what you might think, I am not a moron either. I researched the history of the area. Your family settled in the area about the same time as my great uncle. Fremont is the name recorded on the deed, so I assumed you would be a Fremont since you said you lived here. I am not wrong, am I?”
“No, you are not wrong, and I am not snippy. I’m Sam Fremont. Sparky doesn’t seem to want to do you bodily harm, so I guess it’s safe to invite you in and see about that leg.”
She held the door open while Sparky, Whitey, and Christopher entered and then went back out to bring in the dropped firewood. She deposited it in the wood box on the porch and went into the house. Christopher had removed his coat and hat and was sitting on one of the straight-backed dining room chairs. He had his leg extended and began to remove his boot but was having a hard time, and Sam offered to help and to give it a final yank.
“You do know that if you get that boot off, you’ll never get it back on again.”
“Yes I do know that, but it hurts like a bitch, and I want to see if it is broken or just sprained.”
Sure enough, the minute the boot was off; his ankle started swelling to triple the size of a normal ankle. She helped him over to the couch and propped his foot up on the ottoman while she got some ice.
“I should just go outside and get a bucket of snow for the swelling.”
“I don’t think so. It’s one thing to ice it down another to freeze it off.”
“Are you a wuss Mr. Christopher Chambers?”
“Are you a tease Ms. Sam Fremont?”
She blushed at his remark. Her wariness gone, she began opening up a little, both her personality and her eyes. Christopher was tall, much taller than Seth, who was 6’, and although he wore a heavy flannel shirt, his muscular chest, shoulders and arms filled out every inch of it. His hands were large with long tapered fingers with nicely manicured clean nails. His chestnut brown hair hit just above his collar, and his hazel eyes twinkled when he smiled. He had the complexion of a man who spent time outdoors and not always cooped up inside. He had a few laugh wrinkles, and Sam figured he was about 32 or thereabouts. He had a deep baritone voice and a definite dominant demeanor - not that she minded that. She loved nothing better than sparring with someone knowing she would get as good as she gave. Snowed in with this guy won’t be the worst thing in the world, I actually hope it happens; she thought to herself.
After icing and wrapping his ankle, Sam gave him instructions to keep his foot elevated on the ottoman.
“What am I supposed to do, just sit here and do nothing?”
“Yeah, because with that ankle, you are useless. Haven’t you ever heard of R.I.C.E. for a sprain?”
“Oh, you know it’s a sprain. Perhaps I should call you Dr. Sam.”
“Now who’s being snippy?”
“You are one sassy girl,” He laughed, and it sounded like a lion’s roar and sent shivers down her spine. Sam handed him two aspirins, a glass of water, and an afghan.
“I have some things to do outside before the storm worsens. Is it okay to leave you for a bit?”
“Yes, I’ve been potty trained for some time.”
“Another smart-ass remark.”
“Hey, hey, watch your language. A lady doesn’t use such words.”
“This lady does. My brother said my colorful language is one of my character flaws.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Listen Mr. Hoity Toity, it is my house, and I will speak as I please.”
“If you were my sister, I would take you over my knee for using such language.”
“Then, it’s a good thing for both of us that I’m not.
After she went outside, Chris put his head back and thought about the conversation he just had with Samantha. He loved sass, and Samantha was full of sass and spirit. Even when he mentioned spanking her, she didn’t get all embarrassed, just sassed him right back. He loved spanking a naughty girl’s bottom. He had been a spanking enthusiast since he attended Suzy Perkins thirteenth birthday party. She was sweet on him and asked if he was going to give her a birthday spanking. He was too shy, and she asked Johnny Welch the same question. Johnny didn’t hesitate, hauled her over his knee and landed thirteen good smacks, plus one for good measure. Afterward, Suzy came up to him and told him “that’s how it’s done, now it’s your turn.” Pretty bold for a thirteen-year old, it’s probably why he loved sass so much too. This time, he took his turn, and it was the last time he was too shy to deliver a fanny slap or a good spanking to any female he thought could benefit from the activity.
He watched from the window as she traversed the steps to the barn. Her derriere filled out her jeans, and her legs went all the way up to her neck. It would be fun to smack that bottom. He wouldn’t mind pulling her close to have the feel of her against him. He thought about cupping that bottom and running his fingers through that long shiny brown hair. You are getting carried away Bud, knock it off before you are thrown out on your ear. Whitey barked, and Chris laughed.
“You reading minds now boy. Don’t worry, I’ll behave.”
He woke to the sound of howling winds and smells of something wonderful cooking. He looked out the window and saw the snow was still falling fast and furious. He attempted to get up from the couch and promptly fell back down.
“Here, let me help you.”
“I can do it.”
“Yes, I can see how well you are doing on your own. If you get tired of falling down and want some help, let me know.”
“You should be glad I’m hobbled, or I would be whacking your behind. You appear to need some serious attention,” he answered with a big grin on his face.
“Mister, the only reason I am putting up with your nonsense is because I figure the pain has gone to your brain. Otherwise, I would be throwing you out in the snow.”
“Would you do that to Whitey?”
“Who said anything about Whitey? He can stay.”
“Oh, now I see. You are definitely in need of a serious spanking to tame that bratty mouth of yours.”
“I think not.”
“Oh, girl, you are so asking for a trip over my knee.”
She laughed aloud at this last statement. I think I really like this man. I’m getting sneaky little tingles up and down my spine; she thought to herself. Put a lid on it, girl.
She set the table and told him dinner was ready. She watched him struggle to get off the couch and when he finally made it, she could see the perspiration bead on his forehead. She had a brilliant idea to get the desk chair that was on casters and rolled it over to him.
“Maybe this will help.” She pushed him back down into the chair and rolled him to the table.
“Thank you,” and flashed a smile that set her heart aflutter. “I like a girl who uses all of her God-given talents.”
After dinner, they continued to sit at the table, and she challenged him to a game of scrabble, not just any scrabble, but dirty scrabble.
Sam continued to taunt Chris. “Will your Puritan sensibilities allow you to play?”
“Oh, I’ll play, alright and I’ll win. I think we should make a bet.”
“What kind of bet are you talking about? That glint in your eye makes me a little nervous.”
“If you lose, I get to give you the spanking I threatened earlier.”
“And if I win?”
“Well, that’s not going to happen, but if it does, I’ll buy you dinner in the best restaurant in town.”
“As I said that’s not going to happen but yes, really. Do you have any other ideas?”
“I just might.”
“Now I don’t like that glint in your eye.”
Before the game was over, they lost power. Sam lit the emergency lanterns and put more wood on the fire. Since the storm was still fierce, and they would be soon going to bed, she decided to save the generator in case it was days before the power came back on.
“I’m going to bring in more wood. I’ll take the dogs with me.”
“What about the game?”
“We can finish in the morning,” and called the dogs to the door.
The smell of the outdoors followed her back in. Snow was clinging to her hat and jacket. Sparky knocked her down while she was trying to remove her boots; she lost her balance and tumbled to the floor. Chris hobbled over to help her up and held her as he brushed the snow from her hair and face. He drew her to him and lightly brushed his mouth across hers. She leaned into him, and he took it as an invitation to go back in for another taste. He accepted the silent invitation and drawing her closer he reached down and kissed her again. She felt warm and snug in his embrace and lingered a while longer before breaking away.
The kiss surprised her and it took her breath away, “Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know it felt right.” Looking into Sam’s eyes, he knew she felt the same way.
She was much too bothered by that kiss and didn’t want him to know, so she moved toward the kitchen.
“I’m going to turn in. It’s been a long day.” She walked over and banked the fire. “You can sleep in Seth’s room if you want, but it will be warmer out here by the fire. What’s your choice?”
“Here, sounds good.”
She went off and came back with sheets, pillows and a down comforter. “Can you manage by yourself?”
“Yes, thank you. Sleep well and I am sorry for my impulsiveness.”
“I’m not,” turned and walked off down the hall.
They both lay awake in separate rooms thinking the same thoughts. He was thinking what it was about Sam that captivated him. He had never been one to act impulsively, but that kiss had come out of nowhere. Sam was thinking about how affected she was by that kiss and how she didn’t want to leave the comfort she felt in his arms. She was going to have to watch herself.
It was still snowing when Sam awoke the next morning. This was the worst storm she could remember for so early in the season. There were things that needed doing today, and she had to get at them. Chris appeared to be asleep, so she stoked up the fire, donned her outerwear, and slipped outside. In the garage, she started up the truck and the snow blower. She wanted to get a head start on her driveway in case Seth decided to brave the elements to check up on her once they cleared the roads. A little while later, she heard Sparky bark and looked up to see Chris walking out the door. He was still limping, but he donned his boot and was getting around better. He started pitching snowballs to the dogs, and Sam laughed as she watched them romp around trying to catch them in their mouths.
Chris heard her laugh at the dog’s antics. He loved the sound of her deep hearty laugh and felt a pang in his lower regions. He was so intent on watching the dogs, he failed to notice Sam sneaking up on him. Before he knew it, she hauled off and threw a large snowball, hitting him in the back.
“You’re going to be so sorry you did that, little girl,” he tried sounding stern but failed.
He tackled her to the ground, and soon they were rolling around in the snow. She got up and ran away; he tried chasing her but on a bum ankle he didn’t get too far. Allowing him to catch her, she took a handful of snow and forced it down his pants.
“Now, you’ve done it.” Bringing her in closer, he gave her a long gentle kiss. While she was still enjoying the kiss, he swatted her backside a couple of times.
“Is that the best you can do, Mister?”
He loved the look of defiance in her eyes. “Oh, no, Missy. I can and will do much better than that. When we get in the house, I am going to make your butt cheeks as rosy as your face cheeks.” She saw his big grin and yelling to him as she headed to the house, “Gotta catch me first, Mr. Chambers,”
Sam ran to the door and managed to flick the lock before Chris even got to the porch. She almost peed her pants laughing as he bounced off the locked door.
“You laugh all you want now girl because when I get hold of you; I am going to toast your buns,” Chris yelled through the door.
“Who says things like that?” she yelled out at him, trying hard to control her laughter.
“Just keep it up.”
Sam continued to laugh as she removed her parka and boots. She threw another log on the fire; and put the kettle on the stove, when she felt a cold whoosh of air. She had forgotten the back door was unlocked. Suddenly, she felt two ice-cold hands snaking her around her waist. He didn’t trust hoisting her over his shoulder, so he pulled out a kitchen chair, rested his good leg up on the rung and drew her over his bent knee. She was yelling at him to stop.
“Not so funny now is it Miss Fremont?” he said as he started to rain hard spanks down on her behind.
“You call this a spanking? Anyone could do better than this.”
“Wow, you really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
He spied a crock full of kitchen implements and reached for a wooden spoon. He began laying into her backside. He was now listening to her squealing as she tried getting away from him. Soon the squealing turned to begging, and the begging turned into pleading.
“Please stop, I take back everything I said,” she managed to get out.
“Are you sure because I can continue spanking you.”
“No, no please, I take everything back.”
“I don’t believe you but okay,” he told her and put down the spoon, ending with a couple more hand spanks. He let her up, and she was no sooner free when she turned around and gave him the five-finger salute and ran into the bedroom from which there was no escape.
“Girl, I am going to camp outside this door. Eventually, you’re going to have to come out and when you do you are going back over my knee.”
He could hear her laughing behind the closed door. This girl is a pistol. She would definitely make life interesting he thought to himself as he waited for her to come out of the bedroom.
“Are you still waiting for me to come out?”
There was no response so Sam figured he got tired of waiting. Slowly, she turned the knob and opened the door a crack to peek. She didn’t see him, so she opened the door and came out. The minute she was fully out of the bathroom, he grabbed her and was pulling her to the kitchen chair he had used earlier.
“Not fair, I called out, and you didn’t answer.”
“Haven’t you ever heard the expression, ‘all’s fair in love and war’? This is war, and I am going to be the victor.”
“Maybe you are going to win this skirmish but there is no way you’re going to win the war. Just remember one thing, eventually you are going to have to sleep.”
“Maybe so, but in the meantime you’re getting your backside spanked.”
This time he sat down and put her over his knee, pinned her legs with his, and wailed away with the wooden spoon he had left on the table for just this purpose. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it hurt, so she began to bite the inside of her mouth until she tasted blood. She was about to yell truce when he stopped and started rubbing the area he had just punished.
“Can I get up now; the blood is beginning to rush to my head, and based on what I feel, it’s already rushed to yours too.”
“Oh, you are a naughty little girl, and I should continue spanking you. I have a better idea though.”
He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. “If you don’t want this, let me know now.”
Sam didn’t respond. He put her gently down on the bed and began walking out the door when he heard her say something.
“Coward, you give up way too easily.”
“Why you little brat. You really do need spanked and regularly.” He came over and lay down beside her on the bed.
“If you’re not prepared, reach over to the nightstand drawer.”
“In time, brat, all in good time,” he told her as he began removing her clothing.
Thank you Leigh, I have a feeling you’ve hook a few and they will definitely want to read the rest of the book. And just to steal a little credit – where none is do – Leigh tried out her writing skills for the first time right here on Fantasy Friday a few years ago. I’m proud to have her first story as part of Fantasy Friday. Please won’t YOU think of writing one story? I promise you don’t have to go on to publish a book if you don’t want to, but you never know. Just write down the spanking fantasy that’s already in your head. Please? Send any stories to firstname.lastname@example.org And don’t forget to go by Aimless Rambling on Monday.
Here’s where you can find Leigh’s books: