Release Date: Friday, August 12, 2016
Morgan King is a 23 year old virgin who has never had a proper boyfriend. The fussy young woman longs to meet a man everything like the heroes in the spanking romance novels she loves to read. When such a man comes along, Morgan is sure that he must be too good to be true and balks at actually meeting him.
Jackson Brooks is a 29 year old middle school teacher who works summers at his family’s summer camp. When he gets to know Morgan on an online dating site, he is sure she’s the girl for him. They are both ready to settle down and he doesn’t understand why she is so hesitant to meet him in person. His confusion deepens when he finds out she has sent him a fake photo; he is not happy. With his job as director of the summer camp looming, he decides to give the elusive Morgan some space.
Morgan is devastated when she realizes she has probably blown things with Jackson. The desperate young woman hatches a plan to get to know him secretly. She pretends to be her own mother and books herself into Sunnyvale Summer Camp under the name of Alyssa King, using her sister’s birth certificate. What will happen when Jackson finds out?
Excerpt (Rated PG)
Jackson had his eyes wide open when his group for the morning came running up to the course. If there was something not right with Alyssa he was going to be on the lookout for it. “Okay campers! We’re all going to have fun on our high ropes this morning but first what do we have to do?”
There was a collective scream, “Safety check!”
Morgan did say it but a second or two after everyone else. She was busy trying to see how her high bun thingy was going to fit into the helmet she was passed. “Safety check,” she said.
“Good start,” Jackson said. “How many points are there to check in a safety check?” He held his hand up to stop the kid who’s arm shot in the air. “Alyssa, what do you think?”
“Six?” She could read the sign that was nailed to the tree like a boss.
“Correct. Now Jason, what’s the first thing we secure to make sure we’re ready for our session?”
Morgan spun around, she hadn’t noticed the boy that was standing right behind her. Oh Lord it was Jason Miller, the kid that had hit on her on the bus. “Hi,” she said. She had turned right around and looked him straight in the face, she couldn’t very well ignore him.
He nodded and flicked his hair. “What’s up?”
“Jason? Eyes front, everyone eyes front. These safety instructions might seem boring but they’re important. Who wants to end up falling off a high rope because someone was hitting on some pretty young thing and didn’t secure their safety harness on to them properly?”
He thought she was pretty. Is that was he meant? Was he referring to her?
“No one!” came the collective answer.
Morgan almost laughed out loud. Was this a cult? Because there was a serious amount of chanting and such at this place. It was either training for a cult or the army. Probably the army come to think about it. Not enough flowers or dope to make it a cult or a hippy commune. She covered her mouth to hide a giggle.
“Alyssa isn’t sure whether she wants to end up in a pile of broken bones on the ground.” Jackson said. “Alyssa, time to pay attention, now Jason?”
“The helmet,” Jason mumbled.
“I don’t think everyone heard you.”
“The helmet!” Jason yelled, louder this time because the place just wouldn’t be the same if everyone didn’t shout instead of talk. It was like a musical, except instead of singing everything, they yelled back answers.
“That is correct, the helmet! Everyone put their helmet on and tighten the strap.”
The instructions droned painfully on until they all had been trussed up like Thanksgiving turkeys.
Actually, that could have been the highlight but Jackson instructed a female councillor to check the girls harnesses. Morgan jumped when Jackson put a hand on her shoulder. “You scared me,” she said, being jolted out of her private thoughts.
“You’re first,” he said. “Just follow me.”
She followed the man up the rope ladder that lead to the platform surrounding a tree. “You okay?” he asked, putting out a hand for her to take while she took the last step onto the platform.
“Fine.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. Her fingers tingled from their first actual touch. He had nice hands. A little rough and quite warm—but dry. She couldn’t stand sweaty palms.
“Right,” he said. “You might want to get your bearings for a minute before you take the last step. Don’t look down.”
Why do people always say that? If you don’t want someone to look down, just don’t mention it, they probably won’t. Mention it and it’s the very first thing they do every time and then… “Um,”
“You’re looking down.”
“Well, duh,” Okay when you’re standing high up on a platform, in a tree, staring down to the place where you are very probably about to meet your end, it isn’t the time to remember your manners.
“Really, you do know who you’re talking to, don’t you miss?”
“Sorry, I’m a little stressed here. I didn’t realize how high up we were.”
“Just look back up at me, look at my eyes, Alyssa, my eyes.”
“I’m trying.” Her eyes had made it as far as his crotch and stopped. Look higher, look higher she screamed at her herself silently. How could she though, it was right there, all framed by the stupid harness between his legs?
“Alyssa,” he said gently.
Finally the spell was broken and she looked up to find kindness and understanding and not even a hint of embarrassment. Of course, Jackson thought she was a fourteen year old stranger who had no interest whatsoever in his penis. Why would he imagine that she was lusting after him carnally while they were both stuck up a tree? She squeezed the hand and took the final step up to the platform.
“Great! There you go, see you’re safe.” His voice was soothing and would have been almost believable if they hadn’t been in such a precarious position.
“I’m trying to believe you.”
About Constance Masters
Constance Masters is a wife, mother, grandmother, friend and author.
She writes romantic spanking fiction with the main emphasis on romance.
Constance has always been a sucker for reading romance and that reflects in her writing but she also likes to laugh. Her stories are full of love, laughter and family comedy. It’s a lot like her life.
Where can you find Constance?
Email: [email protected]