A TIMELESS WOMAN by Stevie MacFarlane

Remember back in the day, when men were men and, well, women were...not? Remember those episodes of Donna Reed and I love Lucy?  Do you find yourself wishing for those good ol' days, when a man wasn't afraid to give a lady a spanking, and the lady was resigned to it, if not downright willing?

Well, let me introduce you to one of my favorite authors, Stevie MacFarlane, and her latest release, A Timeless Woman.

I LOVE this book. I'm half-way through it and it is very different from her other work. There are elements of medical play, and of course lots of delish spankings. Here's more:

Blurb:
Despite her age, Marjorie Whitcomb is resigned to spinsterhood. One disastrous marriage has convinced her that the kind of man she wants does not exist. He is simply a figment of her imagination... and her fantasies.

Colton Mitchell has had Margie in his peripheral vision for two years. He always considered her 'quirky', with her vintage clothes and quiet manner. He never saw the real woman until he had to drive her home one night. From her vintage turquoise kitchen to her garter belt and stockings, he then realizes that she is a young woman with very old-fashioned ideas about love and marriage. And that's the very moment in which he decides that she isn't quirky, she is perfect!

But how close is Colton to Marjorie's idea of the perfect man?

Warning: This book contains elements of domestic discipline, medical play and anal play. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.

Excerpt:
Colton laughed, breaking the tension in the room.
"My poor darling, you look positively terrified," he said, taking the chair beside her. "Are you afraid you're going to be spanked?"

"The thought has crossed my mind," she admitted shakily.

"For what? What possible reason could I have?" he asked curiously. Reaching for her hand, he rubbed his thumb across the back.

"I don't know. Sometimes you seem like a man who doesn't need a reason. Maybe just because you want to."

"Hmm, I admit having you over my lap, looking at your beautiful bottom is appealing, but, honey, I would never seriously discipline you on a whim. Unless you asked me to, of course," he said with a grin.

"And you think that's a possibility?" she snorted in a most unladylike way as she took a gulp of her drink. He was obviously thinking it over. Margie twirled her glass in her hands and avoided eye contact until he finally answered.

"Yes, I think it's a distinct possibility. I expect there will be times during our life together when you will occasionally feel neglected or at loose ends, so to speak. Times when I've been away on business or so busy at work I seem distracted or uninterested.  While I'll never be indifferent regarding you, it's been my experience that it may seem so to you. If that happens, I expect you to come to me and let me know you need my undivided attention. I'll know what you mean. However, it would not be wise to do something outrageous to gain it. The results will be quite different, I promise you," he warned.

 Margie knew exactly what he meant. She'd once gotten a black eye for just that.

"What is it?" Colton asked, concerned as color drained from her face. He watched her closely, his hand tightening on hers.

"It's nothing."

"Marjorie, please. I know there are things in your past you'd rather not tell me about, but…"

"Apparently there are things in your past too, if Dr. Sheldon is to be believed. Just what kind of games did you two play?" she asked, turning the tables on him.

"Monica and I had a very short-lived, but intense affair several years ago. Since then we've played a bit, but that's all it was, playing. She has several medical fetishes, it was something I also found enjoyable, and there was no reason not to indulge. Now there is," he said calmly.

"And that reason is?" Draining her glass, she held it out to him.

"You," he replied before going into the kitchen and returning with the bottle. Refilling her glass, he sat the bottle on the table and ran his hand down her hair, twirling the thick curl around his finger.

"So do you intend to play 'medical' games with me?" she asked, wishing her voice were not quite so raspy, wishing her body was not betraying her in the most deplorable fashion. The worst part was, he knew. She could feel it in the tightening of his hand in her hair, sense it in the satisfied sigh that escaped his lips. Releasing her, he moved back beside her. Placing both of his big hands on the table, he leaned forward.

"Yes, but there will be a difference, sweetheart," he whispered darkly. "With you, they won't be games." His head dipped and his lips absorbed her gasp before they vanished quickly and he stood straight and tall. "I intend to be everything to you, my love. Lover, husband, doctor, and if you're very naughty, at times I may seem like your father."

"If I'm willing?" she asked cautiously, fighting her own response to his words.

"Are you?"

 She didn't answer; instead she took her drink and walked to the window.
 It hit him like a punch in the gut. The key word here was 'willing'. She was, but didn't want to be.  She was afraid to agree. Despite how badly she wanted it, something in her past made her doubt her own judgment. Denial was apparently preferable to taking a risk with him.

 Walking to her, he stood directly behind her, his face clearly visible over hers in the reflective glass.

"That's it, isn't it? You want to be controlled, forced, and coerced. That way nothing is your fault, there's no personal responsibility. You're just sweet little Margie, forced to orgasm by her big bad husband who demands her submission. That's your trigger," he marveled.

"No, it's not like that," she insisted vehemently.

"I think it is. What I don't understand is why you can't admit it. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Dominating you, taking you in any way I choose will be my greatest pleasure. All you have to do is say the word, but remember, it won't be turned on and off like a switch at your convenience. It will be a way of life, our way of life," he warned. "I'll never let you go," he growled into her neck.

"You will," she snapped, turning and pushing her hand against his chest to gain some space. "It will get out of hand. You'll get sick of me soon enough and then your punishments will reflect your disgust," she hissed, her eyes wild with panic.
"Sooner or later, your 'spankings' will turn into beatings, your 'love-making' into rape," she screamed, tears trailing down her face. "Discipline will become a form of torture for you as you grow more and more repulsed, until we hate each other with every fiber of our beings," she sobbed.

"Who did this to you?" he barked out, taking her arms and shaking her. Completely shocked he continued, "Who dared to take your gift and then treat you that way? Was it your husband? Was it Charles? I'll kill the son of a bitch with my own hands," he roared.

"He's dead," she replied, suddenly nearly emotionless. The empty glass fell from her hand and shattered on the slate floor.
 
 
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Stevie MacFarlane is a best-selling author of romantic spanking novels.  She lives in upstate New York with her husband of many years.  Visit Stevie’s Amazon Authors Page and follow her. You’ll be notified when new books come out.  You can also sign up for her newsletter on her blog.

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