Though I’m a little late (what’s new?) I’m just about finished with my newest novel, Maintenance Week, the full-length sequel to Maintenance Night. This book directly follows up on the characters, Troy and Lacey from Maintenance Night, and though it’s the fourth book I’ve written in the series it’s actually going to be called Book One. I know, confusing, but there’s a method to my madness (and I will explain below).
Publication looks to be sometime within the next week or so, and I’ll post again when the book is finally live. Without further ado, here’s the cover, courtesy of Rachel Olson at No Sweat Graphics…
As always, the single best way to be notified of new Trent Evans releases is to sign up for my New Release Alerts mailing list. Subscribers to this list will be the very first to be notified of a new release. Now, since everybody is already hopelessly overloaded with e-mail as it is, subscribers to this list will ONLY be notified of new titles or titles with new content. That’s most likely no more than 6-7 e-mails the entire year.
That’s it. No chit-chat, no pictures of my dog, no musings on the meaning of life. Just new books. Really dirty ones.
As you may have noticed when perusing the series title on the cover, something seems… different. Things have become a little complicated with this series, Spanked Wives, and as a result I’ve been forced to make some changes. I’ll try to explain them below as clearly as possible:
- Retailers are growing increasingly hinky about the word “spanked” being bandied about; often retailers (I’m lookin’ at you, Apple) will either outright ban the title, or shunt it into Erotica oblivion never to be seen by the customers of that retailer. That ain’t working for me, so, since the series name is Spanked Wives, a change of series title became necessary. Thus, the new series name is now Valley of Surrender.
- Since one of the existing titles, The Spanked Wives Club, also has become problematic, a change to its title was also necessary, thus it has been retitled Lacey’s Surrender. (I think that title better reflects the actual content of that particular book anyway, so I’m happy with the change).
- Now, because the events that take place in Maintenance Week chronologically take place BEFORE the events that occur in Lacey’s Surrender née The Spanked Wives Club, I’ve decided to reorder the Valley of Surrender series to the following:
Prequel: Maintenance Night
Book I: Maintenance Week (publication imminent)
Book II: Lacey’s Surrender (already published)
Book III: Falon’s Captivity (already published)
Book IV: Beautiful Possession (work in progress; tentatively scheduled for publication Q4 2017)
TL; DR – The Spanked Wives series name has been changed to Valley of Surrender. The title of the book The Spanked Wives Club has been changed to Lacey’s Surrender. The order of volumes in the series has changed to better reflect the order in which the books should be read.
Clear as mud? Thought so:)
To go along with the cover, I thought I’d include a little sneak peak at the book. I may include another snippet in a few days — or I may just publish the damn thing. We’ll see how things go:)
Waiting and dreading her impending discipline was bad enough. The fact that she was made to don the vaguely penitential “uniform” of the staid, drab smock made things even worse. To her, it seemed little more than a starched brown sack.
It galled her still that the discomfort of wearing such a dress was very much intentional.
She sat in the usual spot, on the varnished bench in the hallway outside the study, waiting for her appointment with shame and pain — and reluctant, embarassing arousal. The slate gray tile under her plain low heels radiated a coolness that should have had her shivering, but her strange, ritualized dress, made from a heavy cloth with its unfashionably high neck, ensured trickles of nervous sweat meandered between her breasts, tickling the crease between sex and inner thigh. The scatchy fabric was made more so by the fact she was not permitted a stitch of underwear underneath. No women summoned for their periodic appointments with pain were allowed any underthings — unless such an accommodation was to feature prominently in her adjudicated correction.
The men who attended — and passed judgment — at the Accountings were ever inventive, as clever and diabolical as they were strict, taking pleasure in the ritual that was borderline sadistic.
“Provisional member” was what she still was, despite the fact she was anything but a new face at the neighborhood accountings. The shaming title — a concrete reminder that though she’d been welcomed into White Valley, she still wasn’t yet a full-fledged resident — rung in her head, over and over again.
Just because she wasn’t technically yet an official resident didn’t save her from being disciplined like one.
Her naked buttocks twitched, knowing what they were in for in but a few short minutes.
She listened to the faint sounds coming through the heavy polished wood of the study door, closing her eyes at the frightful — yet arousing — imagery the sounds evoked within her.
Was that a woman? It sounded like… sobbing.
A loud thump made her jump, then a deep male voice rang out. It sounded authoritative, maybe even angry, but at the same time it was frustratingly muted, preventing her from making out any discernable words.
The hallway she sat in was so silent, almost funereal, her only company the chill-inducing song of feminine anguish and mortification coming from the other side of that door.
Her husband would be inside with them now, his eagerness to take her in hand every bit as intense as the twisted war of anxiety, lust, and fear of the unknown raging inside her.
If she had an ounce of sanity, she’d march from this house. Flee this strange, yet impossibly alluring town. Her hands were still cuffed, yes, but they were bound before her, not behind. Nothing stopped her from walking out the front door and simply getting the fuck outta Dodge.
The rhythmic slapping sound came again. She knew exactly what that was. And she knew that very same fate was in her immediate future. It was the third time she’d heard it during her interminable wait in her own personal Purgatory. Her bottom crawled as she heard the faint pleading, the female cries. The clear note of a shriek sent a shiver down her spine, gooseflesh breaking out upon her naked forearms.
Her pulse was frantic, her mouth as arid as a desert. Yet her nipples were so hard, she feared they’d be on prominent display, twin, impudent, shaming points tenting the front of the heavy starched fabric of the humiliatingly plain dress. Her pussy was a seething, slippery mess, her thighs sticking together. There was a very real prospect she’d be adding a mortifying dark wet spot to the back of the brown sack they’d forced her to wear for her latest Accounting. Would they note it?
Would they comment on what a dirty whore she was for being so excited at the prospect of her punishment?
The term was so… formal. Sterile. Yet, she knew what awaited her in that study was anything but.
Submission. Force. Humiliation. Pain. Surrender.
Why did those thoughts make her clit throb when they’d have sent any normal woman screaming for the hills?
The door in front of her opened, Von’s towering form filling her field of vision. His eyes glinted as he smiled down at her, extending a huge, veined hand.
“Come with me, Ms. Warren. We’re ready to hear your case now. Your husband is waiting for you.”
Hope you enjoyed the little excerpt! If you have any questions, or are confused about these changes, feel free to comment below and I’ll be happy to help.
Until next time!