I cannot wait to share CHANGING ROLES: the story of Detective Kate Summers, the legendary Mistress of Pain, and the incredibly hot Jake Davenport who is set on being her Dom!

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BLURB: As the legendary Mistress of Pain, Kate Summers gives what she cannot receive. She craves that sweet release which can only be brought by pleasure buried in pain. However, surrender and sumbission come at a price she's unwilling to pay.

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With my first step through the doorway, the hubbub of the room dropped a notch. My third step brought a hush that spread like wildfire. The first whispers floated toward my ears, my moniker, Mistress of Pain, spoken with more than a hint of awe. The tiniest smile lifted my lips.

They remembered me.

Each step forward boosted my confidence. I marched straight toward the registration desk, each step firmer than the last. The spike in my heart rate dropped, prideful that my reputation had withstood the intervening years. The arrogance of the Mistress of Pain grew, swelling inside of me and stamping out the useless second-guessing from moments before.

I was here to possess, to claim, to inflict pain. It burned in my veins with an angry intensity. The desire growing in my gut needed to be fed before I could focus on the work that had actually brought me here.

Confidence surged in my blood, echoing the arrogance expected of my reputation. I cut to the front of the line. Not a single person complained. They parted for me, stepping aside as if it were their honor to give up their space in the queue.

God, it was good to be home.

The attendant behind the desk looked up. His eyes widened in the shock of recognition. He opened a bin and handed over a black wristband, the slightest tremor shaking his hand.

“Mistress Kate, welcome back.”

The corner of my lip curved up for the second time, bolder now. Worries over my reception had been for naught. I barked out a command. “Reserve me a private room.”

He clicked through a screen on the computer. “Your usual room is available.”

My usual? It had been nearly two years. I tried not to appear surprised. “Yes, that will do.” My usual was a room containing a Saint Andrew’s Cross. This was perfect.

I climbed the sweeping staircase to the second level, which held locker rooms for guests. I bypassed those and punched the elevator button for the sixth floor, where the main open-play spaces were located. The private rooms were located on the fourth floor, but first I needed to procure a willing partner. Someone who could endure what the heat in my blood demanded.

My plan was simple. Survey, select, and take.

Work out my demons. Then and only then would I tackle the case that brought me back home.


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