Here’s a little secret about Austin, Texas that one might not know about unless you’re a lady actually living in or around Austin… Austin does NOT have a strip club for women. Yes. You read that right. There are zero, nada, zip, zilch strip clubs for women in Austin, Texas. Sounds crazy, I completely feel you, but it’s true.
I found this information out the hard way. It was late. I was at a big birthday party for a girlfriend, and we all decided that a trip down to the local strip club would be an excellent way to wrap up what had already been a pretty fabulous party. After looking everywhere on-line for a club, we concluded we were SOL (shoot out of luck). A true downer and quite a shocking surprise. After all, Austin is a good-sized city loaded with women. How could it be that the city would have several clubs for men to see women dancing, but none available for women?
From this experience, an idea was born. Why not create a fictional strip club for women based in the heart of Austin – South Congress Avenue? Imagine the fabulous characters who can work in the club or visit the club, I told myself. Why, there would be enough characters and situations to write an entire series of stories!
And I was right. There ARE loads of interesting characters and situations that I’ve invented for a new series, the Iron Rods Strip Club Series. In Unmasked Secrets, a standalone book (book 2 in the series), readers meet the masked stripper whose stage name is The Dom. He uses a riding crop in his act and gives out pink collars studded with rhinestones to those ladies who hire him for private lap dances.
What readers discover in this book is why our hero needs a mask, as well his journey into the world of BDSM. Here’s a the blurb…
Hannah Armstrong, the new principal of Santana High School is a complete ball buster, so Mack Garner, her drama teacher, thinks. Her cutbacks to his department’s budget will force him to scrimp on his students—something he refuses to do. The stubborn woman won’t listen to reason so he’s taking matters into his own hands. He devises a plan to secretly replenish the money that is surefire, as long as he’s not found out. By stripping under the stage name The Dom and using an ironclad disguise at Iron Rods, Austin’s only strip club for women, he and his hard body will have his program flush again and soon.
But Hannah Armstrong has secrets of her own. The rigid, by-the-rules school administrator harbors dark desires to surrender to the titillation of BDSM. She needs a man—a real man—who can melt her inhibitions and master her. Exploring the lifestyle is a dangerous proposition for a small town principal though. Any whiff of scandal would destroy her career. She’s nearly given up on the dream until she meets a masked Dom at Iron Rods. The gorgeous male stripper so far away in Austin seems like the perfect solution. Is there a chance she can satisfy her furtive fantasies without being discovered?
**Warning – this book contains BDSM elements, graphic sex and touches of humor.
This series, the Iron Rods Strip Club Series, is truly one from my heart, as well as my imagination. Austin, Texas, one of my favorite cities in the world, is key to the series. If you’ve ever been there, perhaps you can understand my love for the place I hope stays weird forever.
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Here’s an excerpt from Unmasked Secrets. If this doesn’t get your engine revving, then seek emergency medical help because you might be dead. *grin*
Unmasked Secrets by Brenna Zinn. All rights reserved.
“Please tell me,” she articulated each word slowly, ignoring his comment. “What will it take to get you to agree to teach math classes this summer?”
“Now that is a very interesting question. Yes, indeed. I need to give this a little thought.” He raised his head and brushed at the light stubble under his chin. “Hmm… This may take a little while. When do I need to get back to you?”
Hannah flattened her palms on the top of her desk, pushing her face within inches of his. “Take as much time as you need.”
Garner tapped the pad of a finger on his ripe lips. “I think I know.”
“Yes?” She prepared herself for what he might possibly dish out. A raise? More money for his program?
Sex?
Her lower extremities spasmed at the inappropriate thought. The scandalous ache in her breasts returned. Aside from the silent scream from her nipples to be suckled and bitten, the muscles in her bottom flexed with the desire to be spanked. The handsome blond with enticing blue eyes must surely be phenomenal in bed. All rough handling and forceful thrusts…
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!
Her fantasies were rising too close to the surface. In her office during school hours was not the place or the time for imaginings of teeth bearing down on her skin or having her backside reddened. She absolutely had to stop reading those erotic books. Either that, or she had to find the kind of man who could properly relieve her sexual misery. The sooner, the better.
Garner snapped his fingers in front of her face. “You okay?”
Hannah blinked several times and shook her head. Goodness gracious and heaven above. She’d zoned out. Zoned out at work! Things were worse than she’d feared. “Absolutely,” she lied, fighting both her headache and the erotic charges surging through body. “You were saying something about what you want.”
“I want you to beg.” He offered a sadistic smile. “I want you to beg me to teach math this summer.”
“Beg?” A wash of cream flowed way down below, soaking her already moist panties. Her blood, heated and charged with arousal, sprinted through her veins. Was she dreaming?
Was he serious?
Had Garner somehow divined her dark secret?
Impossible.
She’d been so careful, saying absolutely nothing to anyone, not even her closest friend or sister, about her wicked desires. Which was exactly how things had to be. If anyone discovered the principal of Santana High School had anything to do with the world of bondage and submission, she could lose not only her job, but her career.
“Yes. I want you to beg.” His gaze bored into hers. “I want you to know how I felt when I came into this office and pleaded for you not to take money from the theater arts program.”
Though his demand raised the hackles on the back of her neck—how dare he, her subordinate, think to challenge her—an odd sense of relief mixed with sexual awareness swept through her body. His demand, arrogant and self-righteous, was far better than his having guessed her hidden desires. It also had her legs quivering with excitement.
Would she give in to his extreme bidding?
Did she have a choice?
Yes, of course she had choices, but none that worked as well. And, truth be told, did she really she want one?
A full beat passed, feeling more like minutes than seconds.
“Tick-tock, Ms. Armstrong,” he pressed.
She licked her lips as her mental debate continued.
Garner pointed to his watch. “You’re wasting my prep period.”
“All right, “she said on a sigh. “As you wish. Please, please, please teach math this summer.”
“No, no, no. You have to put some heart behind it,” Garner insisted, his fist pounding her desk. “I won’t agree to do anything unless I believe you’re sincere. I’m a trained actor, so it had better be good.”
“Seriously?”
“I want to be convinced you really mean it. Otherwise, no deal.”
The muscles in her back and shoulders tightened. Oh, I’ll give you convincing, all right. You want me to beg? I’ll give you the begging performance of the century. You’ll hand me an Oscar when I’m through, you insolent son of a bitch. She regarded the man so many people adored and reminded herself of her primary mission—dig the school out of its “Improvement Required” status—then closed her eyes.
Drawing in a breath, she cleared her mind of everything except the one man who had already mastered her in many private fantasies. The elusive being to whom she would willingly submit. Willingly beg.
The Dom of her dreams.
He, the powerful male both strong and gentle, waited in shadowy relief in her mind’s eye. Though darkness masked his face, she could make out the flogger in his hand. Its many strips of leather dangled from a wooden handle.
Her Master raised the tool.
“Touch the tresses. Feel how soft they are.”
His voice, low and steady, enveloped her as if being wrapped in a comforting blanket, shielding her from any doubts and fears.
“Yes, Sir.” She leaned forward, her arm outstretched.
“On your knees,” he instructed. “When I hold this flogger, you must always be on your knees to touch it. You will show my most favorite tool proper and unfailing respect. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.” Naked and unafraid, she fell to both knees before him, and then ran her fingers through the long pieces of lambskin. Unimaginably supple, the tresses were like velvet to the touch.
“Place your hands on the floor.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, she did so, splaying her fingers and bracing herself.
Her shadow Master moved behind her, trailing the ends of the leather strips down her bare back and onto her ass. Her nerves, heightened and tingling with expectancy, danced beneath every inch of her skin. Her body ached, truly ached, to feel the biting sting of the tresses.
“Now beg,” he ordered. “Beg me to do what I know you want. What I know you need.”
Hannah’s eyelids flew open, taking in Mack Garner. As though still in her dream, her mouth moved unbidden and gave voice to words originating from her very soul.
“Please. Oh, God, please,” she pleaded on an exhale, desperation tingeing her tone. “I want this so badly. I need this. Please, do this for me.”
The smirk on Garner’s face melted. His cheeks sagged. With the exception of the dazed look glazing his eyes, which were now the size of baseballs, his face transformed to a blank slate.
“Sincere enough for you, Mr. Garner?” she asked.
About the Author
Brenna hails from the Lone Star state where she lives with her husband and four dogs, three of which are as big as long horns. She’s a fun-loving writer who likes nothing better than to explore while she travels (no planned excursions, please!), eat what others cook (it works out better for everyone that way), and avoid the gym whenever possible.
Her journey through life has taken her all over the United States, as well as many places throughout the world. Using her travel experience as a guide and peppering in interesting characters she’s met along the way, she loves nothing better than weaving tales of romance and leaving readers yearning for adventures of their own.
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I’m an author who likes to travel down two or three genres, probably on my way to a fourth where I can perhaps combine them all. Maybe this sounds confusing, but hear me out a bit.
I loved the fantasy of this book, with a cast of characters I’d like to revisit. I have a fun secondary character, the Clockmaker, a sort of toymaker in a macabre Santa’s Workshop somewhere between the Underworld and the human world. He fixes “bots” in a makeshift “hospital” guarded by a mechanical cat named Tabby, a perch of blue mechanical parakeets and a swarm of mechanical gnat bots. He removes wings off guardian angels and uses spare Underworld things like red leathery bat wings to create new Doll warrior bots he creates.
And of course, not only older women can love these stories. Readers of all ages who simply want a good romance can enjoy them too. My silver foxes are sexy contractors and volunteer firemen, and believe it or not, people over forty also have…gasp…sex! And they have sex in my series too.
