Susannah Shannon is visiting with an excerpt of her new book, Red Velvet! Doesn’t that sound delicious! Happy reading! ~Mo
Red Velvet:
Christmas in Alaska is magical. Catering a difficult wedding, missing her parents and friends, and a certain Lexan paddle are all making it hard for Cass to embrace the magic of the season. Will Cass be able to find the perfect Christmas present for Killian? Will she ever feel like she belongs in Slick Trench?
With her typical self-deprecating aplomb, snark, and sexiness, Cass discovers that “It’s the most Wonderful Time of the Year.” And a certain paddle means that it will certainly not be a “Silent Night”. Features recipes so good you can get a bit rounder just reading them and the spanking of adult women, as well as all kinds of red hot shenanigans.
DISCLAIMER: This book contains spanking, sexual scenes, and elements of power exchange. If any of these offend you, please do not purchase.
https://www.amazon.com/SusannahShannon/e/B01BRUE3ZE/ref=dp_byline_cont_ebooks_1
Excerpt:
CassCooks Blog Post
Post nuclear dessert
When I was a kid, my gram made red velvet cake on most Sundays. It was my poppa’s favorite. I still use her recipe today although a warning is in order. Knowing what we now know
about artificial coloring, this is not a cake to undertake lightly. Looking back, it’s a miracle that we didn’t all end up with three eyes like a frog spawned near Chernobyl. Red velvet cake has an interesting history. Although legends about it abound, its origins are murky. It may have been invented at the Waldorf Astoria. It may have been invented by a company that made food coloring. Either way—it’s a light cocoa cake with a nice texture. To get the red, you need gel coloring paste (or three vials of the grocery store stuff—which is what my gram used). People may assure you that the vinegar turns the cocoa red, and, therefore, you don’t need the food coloring. They are on crack. There is a chemical in cocoa that turns red in the presence of acids like vinegar. But it is there in tiny amounts. I have read a few recipes that call for grating beets.
Bitch, please. Beets are healthy and I like them. But a cake like this is enough of an undertaking without roasting, peeling and pureeing beets. The process will leave you with red counters and fingers and an oddly hued purple cake. Sorry, fake it is. The full recipe is in the index.
I have been thinking about cake a lot these days since I’m about to start planning the wedding of Jacko and Chelsea. They want an elegant winter wedding, and they have specifically
mentioned wanting a spectacular cake. The wedding will happen in mid December—when Slick Trench, Alaska, is a winter wonderland. Jacko and Chelsea love the outdoors so there will be iceskating, cross country skiing and then a wedding in front of the fireplace. We can’t wait to use the new reception building that we’ve added to the lodge. You’ll be able to watch the planning and then the wedding on The White Gown Network.
Love is delicious—Cass
Cass Harper-Nelson hit the send button and closed her laptop.2. He paused to unbuckle her jeans and yank them down. It was then that she saw the hairbrush sitting next to him. Her enthusiastic protests fell on stubbornly deaf ears. He pulled her jeans and panties down to her feet and helped her step out of them. Without a word he pulled her over one of his legs. Her knees parted as she settled over his thigh. “You know better than to refuse to come discuss something with me.” It
was not a question. She responded anyway. “I do. Yes, I do.”
“You woke up in a bad ass mood today and all I did was try to help you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You will be.” He lit into her with the hairbrush, paying particular attention to spots he had not smacked with the paddle. The brush landed between her thighs and over and over again
across the crest of her bottom. She tensed and twisted, bucking like a wild animal. He gripped her tightly to him and forcefully kept up spanking her. He took her to the edge of her resistance
and firmly insisted that she cross over it. Her sobs reached a peak and the struggle went out of her. She wilted over his leg, crying but no longer fighting. “Oh thank God,” Killian muttered.
Susannah Shannon lives in the American midwest with my family. “I write romances that are funny(well, I try). I love the inner conflict of a smart, modern, independent woman who longs to submit to that one special man.”
Connect with her at
https://susannahshannon.com/
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