Chapter 1

Dolly Carter readthe two-star review of her latest book and sighed. While the reviewer of her fourth romance loved the storyline and characters, she declared the kinky scenes, especially the scenes set in the BDSM dungeon to be flat and lacking imagination. She even went so far as to hint that Dolly had no experience in kink and should stick to writing about subjects she knew something about.

"I really should stop reading reviews," Dolly muttered to herself as she clicked out of the site. "Especially when they're true. But how do I get kinky life experience?"

Her ex-husband had been so vanilla that when he found out she had begun writing super-sexy romance novels, he moved out and filed for divorce. Her first novel had been accepted by the second publisher she submitted it to and when released, the book immediately began selling like popcorn at a baseball stadium. Her second and third books were nearly as well received. This fourth one was the first of a series set in a BDSM club. The first three had been romance between shifters and the women who were their mates.

This review was only one of a handful of negative ones compared to hundreds of positive four and five-star ones. But this one hit closest to home.

As she fixed herself a cup of iced tea, Dolly brooded. She was halfway through the second book in the series and needed to gain experience in BDSM in order for those scenes to be as well received as the rest of the book.

Returning to her computer, she did what she did best—research. Today's subject was BDSM clubs in the area. She found one not too far away that looked like it would offer her the experiences she needed to write more authoritatively.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Carter, but I cannot allow you to return to the club," Master Viking, one of the three owners of Club N2 said. She had never heard him speak so gently, except when she watched him cuddle Roque, his submissive and brand-new wife, after a scene.

The big man, who looked like the Viking warrior he was apparently named after, had just spent the last ten minutes assuring the doctor and three different nurses that he had not caused her injuries, and they did not need to contact the police to come arrest him for assault.

The hospital staff members looked like they were not sure if they believed Master Viking or not, but finally left to tend to other patients while they waited for the report of her x-rays to be loaded into the computer.

No, Master Viking had not hurt her. She had done the damage herself just by being herself—a clumsy, klutzy, graceless brand-new submissive whose lack of coordination got even worse when nervous.

Again.

This was not the first time Dolly reported to the emergency room with cuts and bruises or worse from accidents that had been difficult to explain. She was in so often the nurses knew her by name, but since the doctors changed frequently, they always questioned her closely about how she had hurt herself. Most of the time they doubted her explanations and she always found a business card for the local women's shelter stapled to her discharge paperwork.

At least her health insurance had not dropped her—yet—but she had a feeling it was only a matter of time. This was her third visit so far this year, and it was only the middle of March. The bill from this visit would meet her health insurance deductible after her many urgent care clinic visits for slips and falls during rainy weather, and tripping while descending stairs too quickly that often resulted in sprained wrists or ankles. Then there were the pulled back muscles she'd gotten just by bending over to pick up something off the floor.

The fact that she had slipped and tumbled down the main stairs of Club N2 during a kinky game of hide and seek was not Viking's fault. She should have known that going anywhere near the staircase would result in an injury. Her left foot twisted and snapped, ending up at an odd angle, which had begun swelling in seconds.

Since the Dominants who responded to her screams could not tell if it was dislocated or broken, an ambulance was called to transport her to the hospital. Viking's wife, Roque, helped her change back into her street clothes, so she would not arrive at the emergency room wearing her fuzzy leopard-print bikini and cat ears. The evening's theme had been animals and Dolly had such fun designing and sewing her sexy costume out of a fleece blanket she'd bought on sale.

Now she was being disinvited from the club where she had just begun to learn about her submissive and kinky side. But she understood the club's thinking.

This was her third visit to Club N2, and the third time she left the club injured. The first two had been minor—a jammed thumb from tripping and awkwardly catching herself on a wall, and bruises and friction burns on her palms and knees from skidding across the lobby carpet when she tripped over air as she was leaving. This time, an ambulance arriving at N2's front door called too much attention to the club that tried to keep a low profile in the neighborhood.

"I understand, Master Viking. I'm sorry I've caused all this trouble," Dolly said softly as she blinked back tears.

Her sadness came more from the disappointment at losing the one place she'd hoped to learn about herself and the subject she loved reading, dreaming, and writing about than from the pain in her ankle.

"I do have a suggestion for somewhere for you to visit, but you'll have to wait until your ankle is fully healed. Rawhide Ranch is an all-inclusive BDSM resort in Montana. They are a place for submissives and Dominants to meet, learn, and play together. They offer classes and programs for beginners as well as more experienced guests who return year after year. They also have an on-site infirmary with nursing staff available in case anyone is injured. If you'd like, I can contact the owner, Derek Hawkins, and see about setting up a visit for you."

Dolly was nodding her head even before he finished asking the question. "Yes, please."

Reading romance stories about BDSM and submission was one thing, but to experience what she wanted to write about would be a dream come true. She had learned through her visits to Club N2 and seeing the Dominants and submissives at play that she definitely wanted to explore the world of kinky sex and her own submission more thoroughly.

Too bad the dark star of clumsiness that ruled her life seemed determined to keep her from living out the fantasies she had been dreaming about since discovering this special world.

For the future of her writing career, she could only hope that Rawhide Ranch had the answers, lessons, and experiences she needed.