erotic romance

Ancient Chinese secrets lead to spice in the kitchen

In Praise of Nerds by LISABET SARAI

Since I joined the romance authors community, I’ve heard a lot about alpha heroes. Rugged but handsome features, broad shoulders, chiseled pectorals, powerful thighs that naturally invite musings about what lies sheltered between them – attributes like these apparently constitute the romance ideal. Our hero should also be physically strong, courageous, and generally the dominant type, though some sensitivity or a shameful secret will not be taken amiss. It helps, apparently, if the guy is also wealthy, suave and well-dressed.

Well, I don’t completely buy it. I mean, a nice bod and a pretty face are not to be sneezed at. But they’re not enough. Call me perverse, but I find intelligence to be the most essential aspect of a sexy hero. Furthermore, I’m willing to accept less than stellar physical qualities if my hero is a clever, imaginative, horny genius who can figure out how to get his heroine out of sticky situations and who understands what truly turns her on.

So I’ve got a thing for nerds. I was hopelessly in love with Mr. Spock. Near the top of my sexy, romantic movie list is “Earth Girls are Easy”, featuring gangly, geeky Jeff Goldblum as a brilliant alien. It’s fairly easy to understand why I feel this way. Growing up, I was the egghead, the bookworm, the too-smart girl whom everyone made fun of. The only guys who could deal with me were the ones who were at least as smart as I was. They weren’t on the football squad; they weren’t voted Best Looking or Most Popular. But they had that something that could start my motors. It was intoxicating, yes, arousing, to have a conversation with some of these guys, especially when I got out of high school and into college. We understood each other, and I began to discover that despite their definite nerdish qualities, they were enthusiastic and innovative when it came to sex.

Actually, research has shown that in defiance of their public image as socially challenged losers, nerds are more successful than the general population in finding mates, staying with them, and producing children. Of course, that is not necessarily going to endear them to romance readers, but it’s something to consider.

Not all the heroes that I create are nerds, but many have some nerdish qualities. Harry Sanbourne in Her Secret Ingredient is a classic example. He’s fashion-challenged, with unruly, overlong hair. Seriously near-sighted, he wears clunky, dark-framed glasses. He’s easy going and informal, without a sophisticated bone in his body – a body that looks pretty ordinary in his baggy jeans and out-of-shape sweaters.

Once those clothes are off, though, Harry turns out to be an exceptionally talented and considerate lover. And unlike the suave and impeccably groomed master chef (and apparent alpha), Etienne Duvalier, Harry has an intuitive understanding of what Emily needs.

Stir in a pinch to stir up his passion.

When the Tastes of France food channel offers Mei Lee “Emily” Wong a series of guest spots, she jumps at the opportunity to take her culinary career to a whole new level. Ultimately, she wants a show of her own, but first she has to prove herself to Michelin-starred network founder and effective dictator, Etienne Duvalier. A legend in the world of classic French cuisine as well as a domineering perfectionist, Etienne is skeptical about the culinary abilities of a woman from Hong Kong. To make things more difficult, the master chef is also so gorgeous that Emily can’t help being attracted to him.

Emily tries to solve both problems by spiking her luscious profiteroles with an ancient Oriental aphrodisiac. Unfortunately, Harry Sanborne, the low-key, bespectacled producer for Emily’s show, samples the delicacies she intends for Etienne’s consumption. His powerful reaction to her secret ingredient comes as a pleasant surprise to them both. Harry turns out to be far more impressive in bed than on the set. However, he can’t do nearly as much to advance her ambitions as Etienne. Emily tries once more to tempt the exacting Monsieur Duvalier with her special cooking as well as her feminine charms. The outrageous results threaten to end her TV career forever—until Harry steps in to save her reputation and claim her heart.

Buy Links

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0G6X5D959

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0G6X5D959

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Barnes and Noble – https://barnesandnoble.com/w/her-secret-ingredient-lisabet-sarai

/1118070571

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Universal Book Link – https://books2read.com/u/mdkrAw

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Review Quotes

Her Secret Ingredient was a great short story. I loved the unique plot, the realistically drawn characters and the writing style. ~Lucy Felthouse, Goodreads

I’ve always been a sucker for books set in the kitchen, and even as outlandishly over the top as this one is, it was a lot of fun…lighthearted and silly and sinfully sexy. ~ Steph, The Romance Reviews

EXCERPT:

“Here we are. Try a couple of these and let me know what you think.” I positioned the platter so that the augmented tidbits were within Etienne’s easy reach. He was sitting on one of the stools in front of the counter. His thigh muscles strained against the black leather of his pants. A lock of hair had overcome the gel to settle on his high forehead. His eyes sparkled, ocean-blue in this light. He looked good enough to eat—highly appropriate for a cooking show.

“Thank you. They look exquisite.” He positively oozed charm as he picked up a pastry round with his finger and thumb and placed it upon his tongue. I imagined all the women watching the show, eyes glued to his every sensual move.

“Oh, Mei Lee! These taste even better than they look!” He sipped his wine, then popped another pissaladière into his mouth and chewed with obvious enthusiasm.

“You’ll put the recipe on the channel website, won’t you?” He turned to the camera. “Ah, mes amis, this simple little dish provides a glorious mixture of flavors. And quite a straightforward process, I guarantee. Any one of you can make these in your own kitchen.”

I helped myself to a pissaladière of my own, carefully choosing from the unadulterated side of the tray. They were good—the pastry light and crisp as spun cloud, the topping complex and savory, thyme, garlic and pepper lingering on the tongue long after swallowing. I took a second hors d’oeuvres. Etienne gobbled down two more, licking his long, elegant fingers after each one. The audience must be dying, watching that pink tongue clean away every crumb of pastry, every fragment of olive. I nursed my burgundy and smiled for the camera as he consumed a fifth pissaladière. Low-level lust hummed through me, too, though I’d been careful this time to avoid ingesting any of the aphrodisiac.

He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and drained his wine glass. “Ms. Wong—” he began. A wild light blazed in his face. “I want to ask your pardon—I want—oh, please…” The smooth, urbane voice sounded confused, ravaged by uncertainty. What was going on?

Etienne slipped from the stool to the floor and knelt at my feet. The next thing I knew, he was pressing his lips to the gilt leather of my high-heeled shoes. “Ms. Wong—Mistress Wong—please, let me serve you…”

“Etienne? Monsieur Duvalier? What are you doing?”

He trailed kisses up the inside of my ankle. “I adore you, Mistress.”

“Etienne!” I snatched my foot away in alarm. He gazed up at me, a mix of disappointment and reverence shining in his face. “Stand up. Remember we’re on camera,” I added, sotto voce.

“Yes, yes, but that doesn’t matter now,” he continued in the same crazy vein, though he obeyed my order and rose to his feet. “I am your willing slave. Let me please you, Mistress. Let me suckle your sweet, hard nipples. Raise your skirt and allow me to worship you with my mouth, the way you deserve…”

“Ssh!” I hissed. “Do you want to get us thrown in jail?” I peered through the glare of the lights, trying to signal to someone to stop the transmission. There was no flurry of activity there, however. No one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary.

“I don’t care, as long as you are satisfied.” He paused a moment, then unknotted his scarlet cravat and handed it to me. He held out his wrists. “Bind me, Mistress, if you wish. Torture me. I’ll bear any amount of pain for you. Test me—test my devotion.”

He had the same rich voice as before, the same handsome features, the same lithe, muscular body—but this was a different man entirely. I searched his face, yearning for the arrogant, self-involved chef who’d been bossing me around half an hour before.

There was no trace of him. Instead, I had to deal with this—this eager, self-effacing slave boy.

I’d created a monster.  

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, LGBTQ, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

In a city renowned for being risqué, she’s setting new standards for sin

“All I ask, Lauren, is that you not embarrass me.”

When sexually emancipated MILF Lauren Gordon accompanies her husband to a convention in Las Vegas, she’s hoping for some R&R—ideally of the carnal variety. But Elliott’s running for president of NADA—the National Association of Divorce Lawyers—and he’s worried that his wife’s free-wheeling ways will undermine his chances. Reining in her frustration, Lauren promises to avoid any erotic interactions with conference attendees or hotel staff.

Fortunately she meets Annie O’Reilly, a redheaded Vegas native with luscious curves and few if any inhibitions. With Annie as her companion, Lauren becomes intimately acquainted with some outrageously wanton denizens of Sin City. Then her husband unfairly accuses her of breaking her promise and Lauren decides it’s time to go for broke.

Bringing together characters from Lisabet’s Vegas Babes and The Slut series, The Slut Does Vegas delivers heat, humor and a surprisingly happy ending.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1782-the-slut-does-vegas-vegas-babes-book-6/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DZ15M9KK

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DZ15M9KK

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1719616

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Excerpt:

“All I ask, Lauren, is that you not embarrass me.”

Her husband’s unexpected utterance grabbed Lauren’s attention. She’d been ogling the cute waiter who was circulating from table to table, topping up coffees. A few years older than her son Josh, the guy had a hundred-watt smile and a luscious butt.

“What?” People at nearby tables gave her strange looks. “What do you mean, Elliott?” she continued, reducing her volume. “Embarrass you in what way?”

“You know… with any of your extracurricular activities.” Elliott’s mouth pursed as though he’d eaten something sour. “It would look really bad if you got…” He lowered his voice to a near-whisper. “Um…involved with anyone from the conference.”

She glanced around the hotel restaurant at the other people finishing their breakfasts. You could tell which ones were the lawyers. They wore expensive suits and expressions of self-importance. “I doubt I’d be interested in any of the conference attendees,” she commented dryly.

“The hotel staff wouldn’t be much better.” Maybe he’d noticed the attention she’d been giving the server. “If anyone here finds out about our – arrangement, it could kill my chances for the Association presidency.”

“You really want to be president of the National Association of Divorce Attorneys?” She chuckled despite herself. Who’d be oblivious enough to name their organization NADA?

“It’s really important for my career,” he insisted, wiping his mouth and pushing his plate away. “And it means a lot to me personally. Plus the connections could bring in a lot more business.”

“I understand that you’d like the recognition, hon. And I know you deserve it.” She rested her hand on his for a moment. “But from what I can see, you’re already swamped with work.” She downed the last swallow of her grapefruit juice, then licked her lips. “That’s one of the reasons for my ‘extracurricular activities’, as you so delicately put it. Let’s face it, you don’t have the time to keep me satisfied.”

Her husband slumped in his chair, as if she’d punched him in the gut. “I know I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve, baby,” he said softly. “And I’m okay with you getting what you need elsewhere, as we’ve agreed. But I need you to be discreet.”

“Do you think I’m so blatant about wanting sex?”

“Well, just look at the way you’re dressed, for starters.”

“What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?” She’d thrown on some casual clothes to join him for breakfast: a dungaree skirt that reached to mid-thigh and a striped tee shirt. True, the denim hugged her curves and the scooped neckline showed off her generous cleavage, but that would be true of almost anything she wore.

“You look – well, you look a bit slutty.”

Lauren burst into laughter. “Hon, this is Las Vegas, Sin City, where even the nuns dress like hookers. Nobody is going to think this outfit is slutty.”

Tina Donahue’s newest: From pleasure slave to outlaw

AMAZON: https://tinyurl.com/yamzv7k9

Pleasure that destroys all thought. Love that shatters all barriers.

Marked for extermination, Lukan has miraculously escaped E4’s Pleasure Palace. There, sex slaves satisfy the cravings of E2’s rulers for voyeurism, bondage, dominance, submission, punishment, and more. However, his freedom is not enough.

He left behind Arez, who once saved his life and captured his heart. Within her fragrant, heated caress, he knew everything denied him…rapture born from yearning, contentment fueled by tenderness and love. Determined to deliver Arez from certain death and have her for his own, Lukan embarks on a rescue he may not survive.

Arez has known only carnal submission and loneliness before Lukan. She aches for his strong arms, his fevered kisses. Upon his return, he offers danger and hope for a future. How can she resist? Never fully tamed, she wants Lukan more than life. But to flee from this twilight dimension to another, to find freedom and their destiny, they must first outwit this plane’s human predators and its monsters.

Excerpt:

The gentle illumination revealed the stubble on Lukan’s chin, cheeks, and upper lip, making him exceedingly male. Virile. Dangerous. Behind the shutters, night finally pressed in, the sun withdrawing.

With the windows darkened, Lukan pulled back his hood and removed his sunglasses.

Regina gaped, unable to help herself. His shoulder-length hair was thick and wavy, a light golden blond, the color warmer than Damir’s and simply beautiful, while his eyes… Given his sunglasses, she’d expected his irises to be filmy from cataracts or damaged in some way.

In the candlelight, they were a clear blue-green, similar to waters off Bermuda and other exotic locales.

Never had she seen such an exquisite and perfect man. “Who is he?”

Meelo stepped closer. “I created him, along with the others.”

He wasn’t human? He was an android or whatever they called those things?

His skin looked unbelievably real, surely soft and warm to the touch. His chest rose and fell with his quiet breathing, like someone alive rather than a machine. If that was what he was.

It didn’t seem possible, but scientifically, Nikoli’s people were far more advanced than anyone on this side. “Others?”

“Pleasure slaves.” Shame colored Mello’s explanation, surprising from someone raised to show no emotion. “Designed and born to service our government’s rulers on E4.”

So many questions swirled through Regina she couldn’t decide what to ask first. As far as she knew, robots couldn’t be born. She had no idea why Meelo would call machines slaves. Unless they weren’t machines, which led to a more disturbing conclusion. Nikoli’s rulers were even more corrupt than the various government officials on this plane. Those in power over there went beyond extramarital affairs or keeping their people in ignorance and poverty while conducting wholesale genocide. They actually created their victims and indulged in their basest desires, allowing themselves whatever they wanted while demanding order and obedience from their populace.

No wonder Nikoli wasn’t bothered at his leaders believing he’d died heroically in service to their realm. He hadn’t known about this any more than his father probably had. His tightened jaw and the disgust on his face proved as much.

“You’re saying Lukan’s real? That is, human?” For his sake, she hoped he wasn’t.

“Of course.” Damir scrunched her nose then lifted her chin. “What else?”

The woman’s quick defense, the kind a mother would show, convinced Regina there was an emotional bond, at least from Damir’s end.

Despite their discussion about him, Lukan hadn’t commented or shown any emotion. Maybe he didn’t understand English. She spoke to Meelo. “You said designed.”

“On E2, I was a genetic engineer, the same as Damir.” He tightened his fingers on his injured arm, the only indication he had difficulty controlling his feelings. Unlike Damir, who frowned with her mounting agitation, he spoke with stoic composure, the same as others on E2. “We manipulated the genetic code to produce a variety of specimens different from our people. Individuals with a wide spectrum of hair and eye color, features closer to the many races on this dimension, rather than ours. They grew in artificial wombs.”

Good God. This got worse by the second. “So they could be born and used as pleasure slaves?”

“No.” Damir narrowed her eyes. “You don’t understand.”

She matched the woman’s glare. “Actually, I do. Ever hear of Josef Mengele? He tortured countless innocents, murdering them or ruining their lives to create what he considered the perfect race.”

Color rose in Damir’s cheeks. Meelo took her hand. She pulled it away and spoke. “It was our duty to explore the infinite varieties possible within the human genome. We believed our experiments had a biological basis, so we could study and prevent any future disease. We never meant to harm anyone. In the beginning, our rulers said the babies would go to those in high office who were childless and unable to breed.”

Regina didn’t want to ask but couldn’t help herself. “Where did they go?”

Damir hung her head.

Meelo’s hard stance cracked, humiliation seeping through. “As Lukan was our first, he remained with us until he reached what you call majority on this side. We wanted to make certain he was healthy. That he would thrive. We learned later the others were taken after birth to an area within E4’s Pleasure Palace, where they were seen to by a scientific team, given the shelter and nutrition they needed.”

Not love or freedom.

Damir clutched her throat. “Too late we realized what our leaders really wanted. An endless supply of pleasure slaves, delivered to the rulers when they reached maturity. Our people didn’t know about this. Meelo and I found out by accident. By then, we weren’t able to halt the experiments.”

About Tina:

Tina’s an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. She’s won Readers’ Choice Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. She’s featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

On a less serious note: she’s an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, brakes for Mexican restaurants, and has been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally while wolfing down tostadas. She’s flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary), rewired an old house using an ‘electricity for dummies’ book, and is horribly shy despite the hot romances she writes.

MeWe: https://mewe.com/i/tinadonahue

Bluesky: @tinadonauthor.bsky.social

Website/Blog: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/

Newsletter: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/p/newsletter.html

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/146988.Tina_Donahue

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/tinadonahue

Amazon author page: https://amzn.to/1ChWFkO

Sweet ‘n Sexy Divas: https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/AuthorTinaDonahue 

Have you read UNENDING DESIRE, the first book in the series? Check it out!

AMAZON: https://tinyurl.com/2p8t73s

His hunger for one woman will make him a traitor to his world…

From a portal in his lab on E2, one of the five dimensions of Earth, quantum physicist Nikoli Zorr gazes on everything forbidden to him. Passion. Desire. The exquisite pleasure of running his hands over the lush curves of a young woman he should have stopped watching weeks ago.

His duty is to close the portals that keep the monsters out of E2—and never interfere with the inevitable fate of those on the other side. Yet he can’t bring himself to abandon the woman who has captured his soul.

Psychologist Regina Page is trying to focus on her client, and off the mysterious, unbearable sexual cravings that consume her when she’s alone in her bedroom. The next moment she’s attacked by vampires, then swept into another realm by Nikoli, a stranger whose touch awakens that same raw desire. Whose eyes are already filled with farewell.

Yet beneath their undeniable carnal lust, something else stirs. The beginnings of illicit love. The unexpected need to protect him. Even if it means risking body, blood, and soul to defeat the merciless horde…for a future that was never meant to be.

The spice of Thailand

If you like travel–and super spicy romance– then I have found the book for you!

BLURB:

In a foreign land, a woman discovers exotic new realms of the senses.

“You were born to this. You may not understand, yet. You may not believe. But I will teach you.”

When software engineer Kate O’Neill leaves her lover David to take a job in Thailand, she embarks on a sensual journey that will change her forever.

In the glittering City of Angels, Kate becomes sexually involved with two very different men—a handsome and debauched member of the Thai aristocracy, and the charismatic, dominant proprietor of a sex bar. With Anand Rajchitraprasong, she discovers her own almost unlimited capacity for erotic pleasure. Meanwhile, Gregory Marshall shows her what she has hidden from herself: a deep desire to submit, to surrender herself body and soul to someone with the power and compassion to master her.

Each lascivious adventure binds her more closely to her lovers. Then David comes to Bangkok, and Kate realizes that she must choose one of the three men who all desire her.

Long considered an erotic classic, Raw Silk chronicles one woman’s intimate voyage toward love and self-understanding. This twenty-fifth anniversary edition has been freshly edited and includes a new introduction plus a bonus chapter.

EXCERPT:

They came around a bend in the path and Katherine gasped. They had emerged onto a marble platform on the edge of a small lake. The water was perfectly still, mirroring the brilliant blue of the sky.

In the middle of this shimmering expanse, seeming to float above the surface, stood an intricate, exquisitely proportioned Thai pavilion. Five tiers of red and green tiles formed steep, overlapping layers, climbing to a central spire. Ranks of gilded columns supported the ornate roof. Sunlight flashed on the multicolored chips of mirror that decorated the peaked panels above each entrance. The whole structure was delicate, airy, almost insubstantial, an imaginary palace from some fairy tale. The scene seemed even more unreal given the other buildings Katherine saw on the opposite shore—an Italian-style villa with arches and domes, a Chinese pagoda, and a tower that reminded her of a New England lighthouse.

“Remarkable, is it not?” Anand smiled at her reaction. “This pavilion is considered to be one of the finest examples of classic Thai architecture in the kingdom. Perhaps this gives you some idea of what Ayuthaya must have been like in its day—hectare after hectare of palaces, temples and pavilions, their graceful eaves sweeping toward the earth, their golden towers pointing to the sky.

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MY REVIEW OF RAW SILK:

Lovely and corrupt.

One of Kate  O’Neill’s musing thoughts describes perfectly her adventure in the exotic Thailand city  after she arrives. Hired to develop software for a local company, she escapes from an average life in Boston to the streets of Bangkok.  But she is not ready for the sexual temptations of this bright and floral land, where very different scruples reign than in her native country. Torn between the man she left behind, the sweet loving care of an actual Prince and an arrogant demanding master, this Irish-American beauty is well indoctrinated into the loose morality of her new country.

Sarai’s prose is filled with gorgeous descriptions of the country she knows intimately, as well as the luscious menus that delight her characters and of course, the detailed, rollercoaster stories of sex in many flavors with various partners that leave Kate, her lovers, and the reader breathless. You’ll find yourself yearning for some adventures of your own long before you reach the final page.

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more.

Twenty-five years ago, Lisabet published her first novel, the exuberantly erotic romance Raw Silk. The 2024 edition of this classic introduces a new generation of readers to this intense chronicle of one woman’s sensual journey.

Lisabet lives in Southeast Asia with her husband of over forty years and several rescue cats, where she pursues an occupation completely unrelated to her literary endeavors.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website, along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance, she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Social Media Links

Website: https://www.lisabetsarai.com

Blog: https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/lisabetsarai

Smashwords Author Page: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LSarai

Twitter/X: https://www.twitter.com/lisabetsarai (@lisabetsarai)

Medium: https://medium.com/@lisabet_63394

Buy Links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Raw-Silk-Lisabet-Sarai-ebook/dp/B0DF6Q2S2B

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/Raw-Silk-Lisabet-Sarai-ebook/dp/B0DF6Q2S2B

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Raw-Silk-Lisabet-Sarai-ebook/dp/B0DF6Q2S2B

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/218068923-raw-silk

Add on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/raw-silk-by-lisabet-sarai-2024-09-01

Kinky Literature: https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1666-raw-silk-a-sensual-journey/

Paperback (Amazon): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DKJ2PW92

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1611408

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From enemies, to lovers…

AMAZON: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DL3T3JBF

She can heal the dying…

Two men—enemies of her people—will stop at nothing to have her gift, her desire and love

The Prophecy, Book 1

Trapped in a blood feud, Liz uses her healing power to bring Zeke Neekoma from the brink of death so her clan can exploit his prophecies. During the ceremony, she drapes her nudity over his, experiencing his building strength, the stunning pleasure of his caress as he takes her without warning, using her as he wills.

His hunger for a woman he’s supposed to hate isn’t what Zeke expected, nor does he intend to deny himself. Kidnapping Liz, he’s resolved that she heal his brother Jacob ambushed by her people. At his stronghold, Zeke keeps Liz captive to his and Jacob’s desires. The brothers pleasure her without restraint and in ways she’s never known. Before, her life was filled with loneliness and wanting. Now…

Used by two powerful men, threatened by her clan’s determination to get her back, Liz risks all as she surrenders to Zeke’s and Jacob’s lust, the ecstasy of their touch and her most traitorous needs.

EXCERPT:

He lay in the center of the king-sized bed. His breaths were quiet, his eyes closed, legs sprawled, one arm draped over his head as though he was sleeping.

The bullet holes in his muscular left pec contradicted that notion.

Forcing down a swallow, Liz pulled her attention from his wounds—three perfect black circles—to his face.

Her lips parted on a quiet sigh. Rarely had she seen a man wear such a look of serenity. So unlike the terror she’d witnessed on Carreon’s features or those of his men when they’d been so close to death.

Zeke Neekoma was different. The words boyish and innocent came to mind, which Liz dismissed quickly.

Looking to be in his early thirties, he was no boy. Nor was he innocent. His size, surely six-three, his sharp, masculine features and powerful form were perfect for battle against men and pleasure with women.

Heat suffused Liz, making her limbs feel heavy and weak. She recalled what Carreon and his men had told her about Zeke, no doubt a mixture of truth and lies. Not knowing which was which, she moved deeper into the dimly lit room. Spanish-style lamps created pools of honeyed light, giving the space a sacred feel one might experience in a church. The cherry-wood four-poster dominated the sparsely furnished chamber, while a series of leather wing chairs—reserved for observers—circled the bed.

The man who’d been guarding Zeke left the room. Carreon and his men went to their seats, their weight causing the chairs’ legs to scrape against the polished hardwood floor.

For one foolish moment, Liz thought the intrusive noise would cause Zeke to open his eyes and lose his blissful expression. That he’d ask why they’d pulled him from such blessed rest and what appeared to be happiness.

This man didn’t want to be healed. Liz knew it in her soul; saw it in the upward curve of his beautiful mouth. Was he the same as her father, tired of fighting? Or was he welcoming the end so he could reunite with someone he’d loved?

His parents and siblings, perhaps…or a wife.

A new rush of warmth stung Liz’s chest.

Disturbed by the sensation and her aching loneliness—the need for a powerful yet good man at her side—Liz recalled what Carreon’s lieutenants had claimed the first night she’d come here.

“He’ll murder our women and children so our line dies out, just as his kind have always wanted.”

If that was the truth, then Zeke was no different from Carreon, who hunted the weakest, eliminating them first. Once more, she examined Zeke’s face, lingering on his mouth. Instead of a sneer or a smirk, she imagined him smiling at her, his grin honest, reaching his eyes, his wanting of her obvious and—

Stop it.

What was the matter with her, indulging in a romantic fantasy when she was well aware of their people’s conflict and unending hatred for each other? Even if Zeke wasn’t a murdering psychopath, he wasn’t likely to be stirred by a woman from an enemy clan. So why was he affecting her like this? Was it a power he had…or something else. Perhaps the truth as to who he really was?

Ignoring her persistent longing, Liz replaced it with a healthy dose of distrust. “This is Zeke Neekoma?”

“You sound surprised,” Carreon said. “Why?”

About Tina:

Tina’s an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. She’s won Readers’ Choice Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. She’s featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

On a less serious note: she’s an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, brakes for Mexican restaurants, and has been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally while wolfing down tostadas. She’s flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary), rewired an old house using an ‘electricity for dummies’ book, and is horribly shy despite the hot romances she writes.

MeWe: https://mewe.com/i/tinadonahue

Website/Blog: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/

Newsletter: https://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/p/newsletter.html

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/146988.Tina_Donahue

Twitter: https://twitter.com/tinadonahue

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/tinadonahue

Amazon author page: https://amzn.to/1ChWFkO

Sweet ‘n Sexy Divas: https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/AuthorTinaDonahue 

Sometimes one plus one equals three…

Welcome frequent blog guest Lisabet Sarai with a new boxed set of love!

Who knew?

It had been months since I’d published any new titles. Meanwhile, my current WIP was proceeding at a snail’s pace due to the demands of my day job, summer vacations, and other real world interruptions. So a few weeks ago, I decided to mine my back list and put together a boxed set to sell on Kindle Unlimited, to see if I could push my Amazon ratings back into positive territory.

I had a few stories in mind, romance tales in the twenty-thousand word region which were originally published years ago, and which might not be familiar to my current readership. (In addition, the KU audience doesn’t overlap much with my usual readers.) I started with three titles. When I looked at the works I’d selected, I saw that they shared a focus on three-way relationships. Then, as I scanned my publishing history, I started to find additional stories on the same theme.

I ended up including six tales in the Triad collection (over 100K words). Actually, I identified a number of other candidates as well, but decided they weren’t as good a fit. Indeed, when I examined the romance I’d written over the past decade and a half, I discovered that I’d written nearly as many threesomes as I had couples.

This was something of a revelation to me. I’ve always been attracted to polyamory, but I didn’t realize how pervasive that interest had become in my writing. If you’d asked me what my “favorite” genre or theme was, I would have cited dominance and submission. But it seems three-way love is at least as common in my writing.

Who knew?

Why should soul mate be singular? Can one person really satisfy every need and desire?

Triad is a compilation of erotic romance tales about threesomes – not fleeting, lust-driven ménage a trois encounters but stable, loving relationships that involve three people. A long-married couple’s ardor is rekindled when another man seduces each of them in turn. A lonely, embittered vampire finds redemption in the arms of his two young victims. A mistletoe kiss reawakens passion between old friends, until Suzanne discovers Gino already has a life partner. An alien pair offers love and immortality to the only survivor of a interstellar disaster.

Steamy and explicit, unapologetically romantic, Triad celebrates the joys of three-way polyamory.

EXCERPT:

Rated R (From Once Upon a Blizzard)

Suzanne had never seen stars so bright. The night sky was a black bowl above them, studded with blazing jewels. The snow blanketing the yard gleamed with some faint inner radiance. At the edges of the property, evergreens clustered in deeper shadow like silent sentinels.

She took a deep breath of the crystalline air, so cold and sharp it hurt her lungs. The tiny hairs inside her nose stood on end. Her earlobes felt like icicles. From the neck down, though, she was bathed in delicious warmth. The bizarre contrast almost made her giggle.

Smooth, hard muscle brushed her thigh. After a moment, roving fingers skittered across her lap and burrowed into her pubic fur. A fiery bolt of lust struck her core.

“Gino!” she scolded. “Behave!”

“Why should I?” asked her lover, rubbing his body against hers under the surface of the water. “Harry doesn’t mind. Do you?”

The lanky blond on Gino’s other flank grinned. “Not at all. Long as you keep up what you’re doing over here, that is.”

Harris had untied his ponytail. His golden locks flowed over his shoulders, darkening to sepia where wet. With his thin face and chiseled features, he looked like some warrior ascetic, a knight on a quest for some sacred prize. Suzanne could understand why Gino found him attractive. She wondered whether he really was one-hundred percent gay.

Leaning back against the redwood wall and closing her eyes, she allowed the peace of the night to enfold her. Her limbs were heavy. Her heart felt as though it was about to overflow.

The growl of motors and a rattling of metal reached her ears. Gino’s solar-heated hot tub was at the back of the house, away from the street. Still, the faint noise shattered the intense quiet of the snow-smothered night.

“Plows,” said Harris, cocking his head in the direction of the sound. “At last.” He pointed to the cloudless sky. “Looks like they were wrong about more snow, though.”

“We’ll drive you over to Pelham early tomorrow morning,” Gino added. “Actually, the highway department might have towed your car already. We’ll call first, assuming we’ve got power. Anyway, don’t worry, you’re likely to be well on your way back home by tomorrow afternoon.”

Home. Suzanne didn’t want to think about California—her neat, modern, empty condo, all the problems and decisions awaiting her at work, the bland weather and the vacant sky.

“There’s no rush,” she said finally. “I’m going to miss my Monday appointment anyway. But thank you.” She squeezed Gino’s hand. “For everything.”

Now, despite all that they had done together, she found she was shy. Steam drifted up in pale swirls from the heated surface of the water. Underneath, she could barely make out the shape of their naked limbs. “I’m going to miss you,” she murmured finally. “Both of you.”

“You’ll be back for Christmas, though, won’t you?” Gino’s eyes were shadowed but Suzanne understood the yearning she’d see there, if there were more light.

“Maybe…” she began. She imagined another holiday with her parents, pleasant but predictable. They wouldn’t mind if she disappeared after the opening of the presents. And suddenly she couldn’t bear the thought of not being with Gino again, very soon. “Yes. I’ll be back. I promise.”

“Wonderful.” Gino pulled her into a kiss that made her heart pound and her pussy tremble. “You can stay over, you know,” he added when he finally released her. “You can stay for as long as you want.”

“The house has six bedrooms,” Harris commented. “Way more space than we need.”

“Yeah—even with my office and Harry’s studio, there are two rooms we barely use.”

“We do have broadband Internet, by the way. Even if we don’t have mobile service.”

“There’s a local limo company that can get you to Logan in two hours. Harry uses it when he has an exhibition in New York…”

“This is freak weather,” Harris interrupted. “Most winters we don’t get much snow.”

“And the summers here are glorious, green everywhere, bright sun and lingering twilights, fresh sweet corn and luscious home-grown tomatoes…”

“I know!” Suzanne couldn’t keep from laughing. “I grew up here, remember?”

“I thought that maybe you’d forgotten,” said Gino, his voice soft.

“No,” she replied, flush with a recollection of the loyal, clever tease he’d been in school. “I remember very well.”

Buy Links

Free on Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DCT7NC8C

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0DCT7NC8C

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DCT7NC8C

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/217367481-triad

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Hot, new paranormal romance from Tina Donahue!

 
 

The Craving

NEW RELEASE

Book Two The Wanderers

Erotic Paranormal Romance

AMAZON

 

She’s everything he’s desired… He’s the one man she shouldn’t crave.

Knowing the danger the Wanderers pose, Erica Vega intends to hunt down the mysterious
group steeped in dark magic, curses, and mind control. As a Deputy U.S. Marshal,
she has the law behind her, along with her telekinetic powers. Let the chase
and battle begin.

Not so fast. Her superior forbids her to go after any Wanderer, instead ordering
her to work cold cases with her new partner Lucian Navari.

Tall, dark, and hotter than sin, Lucian doesn’t play by the book. He has his own
agenda and agrees to help Erica hunt Wanderers on the sly where he and she can
be up close and personal.

Erica’s not one to mix duty with pleasure, but he’s impossible to resist in too damn
many ways. As they investigate an elusive Wanderer, nothing is as it appears—she
can’t trust what she sees or believes. Lies masquerade as truth, and deception
rules while she and Lucian grow closer in a carnal dance that will change their
lives.

Excerpt:

He shoved his hair back. “You still don’t trust me.”

She did, more than any man in her life, except for Mike. However, when people got
rattled or drank, they sometimes blurted stuff they shouldn’t. Not their fault,
but it didn’t make things better. “If by chance you ever say anything about my
power, I’ll deny it. I’ll make you sound like a loon. That’s a promise.”

“You think I’m that much of a prick?”

She’d never met a finer man. With him, she felt comfortable and safe. He’d protected
her after the tree incident and tried to stop her from behaving like a maniac.
Today, they’d become friends without even trying. She should have been scared
at the notion and for breaking one of her work rules. Instead, relief washed
over her. She wasn’t alone in this. “You’re the man. How many times do I have
to keep telling you?”

He chuckled. “God, you’re something.” He searched her face. “Are you all right?”

Her insides still trembled. She suspected from doubt and unease about Pope, and at
having Lucian here, close and alone with her. “I won’t lie, I’ve been calmer.
Maybe a beer will help. Can I get you one?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

She delivered the brew, along with damp dish towels to clean their faces and hands.
Once they were finished, she dropped the things onto the cocktail table and
gestured him to her cloth sofa, large enough to seat four or serve as a
makeshift bed for an overnight guest. They sat on adjoining cushions. She
didn’t mind having him near. His proximity, scent, and heat unsettled her in a
good way. She gulped her beer, hoping it would help her forget the bad stuff.

Lucian sipped his drink and regarded her.

Her throat and face stung with heat. “You’re staring again.”

“Do you mind?”

“Maybe.”

“Then stop making it so easy.”

She lowered her face and smiled. “There’s dust on your shirt and pants.”

He looked and shrugged. “I don’t care, if you don’t.”

His deep voice soothed. His big body promised excitement, comfort, refuge from a
crappy world. Stuff she shouldn’t want, at least from him. Work relationships
always got complicated no matter how she controlled her feelings. Throwing
attraction into the mix made things worse. She gulped more beer.

“You’re sure you’re all right?”

Bubbles tickled her nose. She rubbed it and wanted to lie, tell him to go home, she was
okay and didn’t need him here. The words wouldn’t come. She looked at him.

He lifted his shoulders. “What?”

Never had she wanted a man as she did him. “Screw this.” She put her bottle on the
cocktail table and crawled onto his lap, straddling his legs. “Don’t talk, please.” She cupped his face. “Unless you don’t want me.”

His eyes rounded. “Are you joking? Hell yeah, I do.”

“Shhh.” She didn’t want words. She needed intimacy and fitted her mouth to his.

He smiled. So did she, their lips lifting together, seeking each other.

The room spun. A ride like no other. His stubble rasped her cheeks and chin. His
lips couldn’t have been softer or warmer. Better than what she’d experienced in
her dream.

He pulled her close and speared his tongue into her mouth.

Shelost her breath. This was past epic and straight into legendary. Even her
fantasies weren’t this good.

They kissed with abandon and stark need, each pressing nearer, trying to eliminate
any separation between them. His strength thrilled, showing her his power, yet
it also felt like a caress.

He growled and tore his mouth free.

“No.” She cupped his head to pull him back to her. “I’m not through.”

“Neither am I.” Holding on to her, he leaned forward, put his bottle on the table then
twisted around and pushed her to the sofa. The cushion whooshed from her weight. “Not a word, understand?”

Several locks had fallen over his forehead. His eyes were bright with lust. Face flushed. So gorgeous. “Yes, sir.”

He laughed and captured her mouth with desire, using it with skill. His kiss was savage and unrestrained, tongue burrowed deep, giving her no chance for words. Wild sounds poured from them, more animal than human. It fueled her lust.

Reason and good sense fled, replaced by carnal instinct feral in its intensity, nothing timid or gentle about the act.

They rocked and rolled deep kissing. The sofa jerked on the hardwood floor.

He broke free again.

He had to stop doing that. She grabbed his hair. “Come back here.”

He hauled her up then pushed to his feet.

She wrapped her legs around his lean hips, her arms about his shoulders.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He looked right, left.

“Behind you.”

He pivoted, carried her across the room, and halted. “Where’s Rápido?”

“By the chair. Give me a sec.” Using her power, she transported him to his tank. There he could take a soak or bask beneath his warming lamp. Turtle heaven. “What are you waiting for?” She squeezed Lucian’s shoulders. “Get going. I’m about to die.”

“And I’m not?” Huffing, he raced into her bedroom and brought her down to the mattress with him. Springs popped. The frame creaked.

Their mouths were welded together, their kiss long and lingering, deep and wet. The best kind.

He jerked free. “Wait.”

“No.” She kept kissing him.

He pulled away. “We have weapons.” He left the bed and put his Glock on the bureau.

She was right behind him and placed hers next to his.

Grinning, they tore at each other’s clothes. Shoes, pants, tops, and underwear flew.

This time, she pulled him onto the mattress.

 

TEASERS FOR YOUR VIEWING PLEASURE…

_______
EROTIC PARANOMAL
DECADENT – AMAZON

The Yearning

Book One The Wanderers

Erotic Paranormal 

 

To break this curse, they’ll have to turn the heat up. Way up.

Jasmine Dante prowls Key West’s nightlife, fighting a losing battle against a jealous rival’s curse that forces her to seek carnal pleasure, no matter the danger. Weakened from lack of sleep and driven by insatiable lust, she spots a man who stirs her desperate craving, and begins yet another dance of seduction.

Except the dark stranger who returns her direct stare is no ordinary lover. Inside his powerful body lies a raw sexuality that just might be enough to break her curse. There’s only one way to find out—imprison him in her bed and feed on his passion.

Former Deputy U.S. Marshal Mike Stearn is many things, but he’s no woman’s sex slave. The deadly telekinetic power he ruthlessly suppresses comes alive again at Jasmine’s touch. Beneath her bold, potent sensuality, he senses vulnerability and desperation. He may be in handcuffs, but she’s the one who’s enslaved.

As Mike resurrects his power to free himself so he can find the curse’s source and defeat it, Jasmine revels in his masterful rule. Her ravenous yearning evolves into rapture as she surrenders to his hunger, her darkest needs—and the emotional connection that lies beyond. Unless the curse takes her life first…

 
 
 

 

About Tina:

Tina’s an Amazon and international bestselling novelist who writes passionate romance for every taste – ‘heat with heart’ – for traditional publishers and indie. Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic Times and numerous online sites have praised her work. She’s won Readers’ Choice Awards, was named a finalist in the EPIC competition, received a Book of the Year award, The Golden Nib Award, awards of merit in the RWA Holt Medallion competitions, and second place in the NEC RWA contests. She’s featured in the Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Before penning romances, she worked at a major Hollywood production company in Story Direction.

On a less serious note: she’s an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, brakes for Mexican restaurants, and has been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally while wolfing down tostadas. She’s flown a single-engine airplane (freaking scary), rewired an old house using an ‘electricity for dummies’ book, and is horribly shy despite the hot romances she writes.

Website/Blog: http://tinadonahuebooks.blogspot.com/

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

MeWe: https://mewe.com/i/tinadonahue

Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1wFmIu6

Twitter: https://twitter.com/tinadonahue

Amazon author page: http://amzn.to/1ChWFkO

My page at TRR: http://bit.ly/1vb7eEc

Kensington Author Page: http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/24772

Sweet ‘n Sexy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

 

Never stop learning

PLEASE WELCOME MY GUEST LISABET SARAI!!!

Take it away, Lisabet!

My bio says that I’ve been writing all my life, and that’s pretty much true. I was penning stories and poems when I was in early elementary school. By high school I’d branched out to novels and plays. Though I’ve also done drawing and painting, sculpture and dance, words have always been my preferred instrument for creation. And to be honest, I grew up believing that I had significant writing talent.

The more I write, though, the more I realize how much I still have to learn.

Total-E-Bound, an English indie publisher focused on erotic romance, brought out the first edition of Getaway Girl way back in 2008. This was only my third or fourth tale written specifically for a romance audience. At that time, I knew almost nothing about the genre and its conventions. (Until I signed with TEB, I’d considered myself an author of erotica.) I spent quite a bit of time reading the work of my fellow TEB authors, trying to grasp the essence of this new category of fiction and to translate that into my own stories. My editors also did not hesitate to point out areas where common aspects of erotica just wouldn’t work for romance readers.

By 2008 I’d concluded that in every romance: 1) there had to be a sense of inevitability to the connection between the hero and heroine, an attraction that might seem to make no sense but which could not be denied; 2) the couple had to at least discuss commitment; 3) the sex (this was erotic romance after all) had to be more than just casual – there should be a sense of fitting or rightness, a connection that transcended the physical.

I tried to implement these conclusions in writing of Getaway Girl. The story was accepted and published, but was never particularly popular. I went on to write a lot more romance, getting better at it over time.

Last year I reclaimed the rights to the story so that I could self-publish it, and a few months ago I set myself the task of re-editing the piece in preparation. I really hadn’t looked at it for more than a decade.

I was appalled by how clumsy and stereotyped it seemed.

Inconsistencies in character and in plot were only part of the problem. There were also long passages of purple prose, most especially in the sex scenes. I posted the tale in my critique group and discovered there were also plentiful anachronisms and inaccuracies related to its historical period (contemporary) and British setting. (The story was originally targeted for an anthology entitled Bound Brits, so it had to take place in the U.K.)

I subjected the story to possibly the most thorough revision I’ve ever done on any of my work. I won’t say that it’s unrecognizable, but I probably modified at least 25% of the text. In the fourteen years since the first revision I’ve learned a lot, both about romance and about writing in general. Practice does make perfect; I’ve published nearly one hundred titles since that early attempt, both romance and erotica. This second edition of Getaway Girl is orders of magnitude better than the original.

But maybe I shouldn’t use the word “perfect”, because in truth, as long as we authors are writing, we are learning all the time. I’m about to revisit my first novel, preparing an expanded twenty-fifth anniversary edition for release sometime this year. This will be the fifth version of Raw Silk. I have no doubt it will be the best.

Our story:

Be careful what you wish for

All Peg wants is a break, a bit of adventure, a relief from her mundane existence in the bucolic but boring Yorkshire hamlet of Kirkby Malzeard. When dashing, sophisticated journalist Lionel Hayes saunters into the pub where she’s tending bar, Peg suspects that he was just the sort of man to fulfill her fantasies of escape.

The seductive Lionel, however, is not what he seems. Before she knows it, Peg is a hostage, roped and gagged, speeding away from the scene of a daring crime. Lionel is armed and dangerous, but somehow Peg still wants him – regardless of the consequences.

Note: This book was originally published in 2015 by Totally Bound. This second edition has been substantially revised and has a new ending.

EXCERPT:

“What are you doing here, if I might ask?”

“Me? Oh, I’m a journalist. I’m doing a story on the find and its historical implications.”

Peg felt a twinge of suspicion. “The press conference was yesterday.”

“My car broke down halfway from London. I spent last night in a town even tinier than this one.” His smile was charming, apologetic. Peg’s uneasiness melted away.

He leaned towards her across the bar, putting his hand over hers. “That’s why I appreciate your help, in giving me the information I need.”

His skin was warm and smooth, none of the calluses of a manual labourer. Not like the farmers Peg had occasionally dated here, before she gave up on finding a man in her home village. He ran one fingertip up and down in the sensitive crease between Peg’s thumb and forefinger. The light touch was enough to turn her nipples to aching knots and trigger a throbbing between her legs.

She caught a hint of his scent, a balsam-laced aftershave or cologne that simultaneously conveyed masculinity and refinement. His forefinger ventured higher, stroking the back of her wrist, a gesture both delicate and bold. Her pussy clenched as though he were massaging her down there, instead of merely brushing a casual finger across her hand.

She stared at the bar, blushing, angry with herself for being so susceptible. Finally, she managed to raise her head and meet his eyes, which were a stormy hazel colour.

“What paper are you from?”

“Oh, I write for an upmarket travel rag. I doubt that you would’ve heard of it. This story should enhance the romance and mystery of your already delightful village. I expect you’ll see a surge in tourists after publication.”

“You should interview Peter Lofthouse. He’s been mayor for the last dozen years.”

“I have the feeling that I’m talking to a real authority right now. Lived here a long time, haven’t you?”

She bristled. How did he know that? Maybe because she seemed such a country bumpkin. “I spent some time in London, but I had to come back. Family problems.”

“Sorry to hear that…” He scanned her chest, seeking a name tag. Peg felt as though he were fondling her breasts instead of just looking at them. Could he see the swollen tips, pushing up through her soft green jumper?

“I’m Peg,” she said, snatching her hand from his and reaching for the bar rag. “And you?”

He bowed slightly. “Lionel Hayes, at your service. But I’ll bet you’re really Margaret, right? It’s much more musical, more sophisticated. It suits you.”

He was clearly trying to flatter her. She didn’t really mind. “Lionel—sounds like an aristocratic playboy from the nineteen twenties. Nobody’s named Lionel anymore.”

The journalist laughed again, soft and intimate, sending the blood rushing again to Peg’s cheeks as well as to other body parts. He drained the last of his pint, then reclaimed her hand. “I’ve got to go. But it’s been pleasure to meet you, Margaret. Perhaps I’ll mention you in my article.”

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1587-getaway-girl-/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D2WM4BXR

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0D2WM4BXR

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1557686

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/getaway-girl-lisabet-sarai/1103185498

Kobo  – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/getaway-girl-10

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6499560218

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/212364347-getaway-girl

Add on BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/books/getaway-girl-by-lisabet-sarai-2024-05-03

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, LGBTQ, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh


Second Chance Furbabies

Please welcome author PIA MANNING!

Thanks! What inspires me? Many of the characters that live and work in Pinecone Creek are drawn from my real-life encounters and observations. Pinecone Creek itself is a compilation of my experiences in the small towns in which I’ve lived, worked, or visited in the Northwoods territory of Wisconsin. My imagination also contributes to my overall plots and stories. You could say I make stuff up for a living, lol. End of the day, I hope my tales transport you to a different, fun, reality.

Another aspect of my life that I share with the kind-hearted people of Pinecone Creek is a driving desire to give deserving animals a second chance at finding loving homes. Emily Slater (Hometown Spirits, Caveman Creek 4) finds a German Shepherd mix that has given birth to a litter of four in an old shed on her newly acquired property.

After her new dog gobbles her lunch, Emily calls for reinforcements in the form of Mike Lambert. The gallant Mr. Lambert answers the call with twenty pounds of dog food, and various canine necessities. (And lectures Emily about personal safety!)

Momma dog looks remarkably like a dog we adopted a few years ago. Unfortunately, the real Momma passed away several months ago. She was a wonderful, loving, companion. I miss her terribly.

I also share my home with several cats, one of whom belonged to the real Letitia. Belle survived a year on her own after Letitia’s death. I found her at dusk, huddled underneath a chair on our deck. She was desperately ill and covered in fleas. It took weeks of food, medication, and love to bring her back to health. Belle is now a house cat who has no desire to return to the great outdoors.

I hope it gives her former pet mom some comfort knowing her furbaby is loved and happy.

Nurse Practitioner Emily Slater wants a home of her own in a welcoming community. She fell in love with Pinecone Creek and hopes to connect with the people she serves and give back to her town. Emily needs the kind of relationships that last a lifetime.

Brothers Mike and Paul Lambert have always called Pinecone Creek home. They need a woman to share their lives and their bed. One look at Emily sends their hopes soaring, and they spin dreams of having a family and children. Their protective instincts roar to the surface whenever they’re close to her. Even though they’ve been disappointed before, they’re willing to risk their hearts again.

But Emily hasn’t finished unpacking and her ‘to-do’ list is a mile long. The men are panty-dampening hunks, and they make her feel safe, but she isn’t ready to commit to the brothers quite yet. And that cabin she just bought? Someone or something doesn’t want Emily there. 

Excerpt:

“That’s Letty Nelsen’s old place. No one’s lived there in a while. Not since—” Mike’s gaze traveled downward.

“Letty got murdered,” Angie finished. “People say strange things happen out there at night. Lights, sounds of a woman crying and moaning…” She shivered.

“The realtor told me a lady died there, but he didn’t say anything about a murder. I’m not sure if I believe in ghosts or hauntings, but that is awful. I planned on stopping out there tonight to unload tools, take measurements, and try to get an idea of how much DIY is in my future.” And how much it’ll cost, Emily thought. “But I haven’t been back in weeks. Can you give me directions? It’s no fun wandering around in the dark.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t you follow me?” Mike offered.

“Oh, thanks, but I don’t want to put you out. If you don’t mind just directing me…” Emily honestly didn’t want to impose on Mike, but going off with a strange man to an isolated cabin in the woods wasn’t a smart thing to do—no matter how nice he seemed or how fast a woman might drown in his soulful brown eyes or notice the muscles straining against the Henley underneath his flannel shirt or…

“No trouble. It’s on my way home,” Mike coaxed.

“You’ll be safe with Mike. Besides, I know you’re leaving with him, so he’d be in for a big hurt if you disappeared!” Angie declared while she cleared their plates.

“Thanks, Angie.” Mike rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“My pleasure, Mike,” Angie answered over her shoulder before she disappeared into the kitchen.

“With a reference like that, how can I say no?” Emily laughed and laid some bills on the counter. “If you’re sure it won’t take you out of your way, I’d appreciate the help.”

Biography and Social Media: 

Pia Manning is the erotic romance author behind the Caveman Creek series. She is married to a wonderful man. Rides herd on four cats (not easy to do) and canine Noodles the Schnoodle (schnauzer/poodle cross), raises monarchs, and plays Clash of Clans. Not a morning person.

Find me at:

    Website: https://www.piamanning.com

    Siren Bookstrand page: https://www.bookstrand.com/pia-manning  

Amazon:    https://www.amazon.com/s?k=pia+manning&crid=1CTBHDIYQC8VR&sprefix=pia+manning%2Caps%2C484&ref=nb_sb_ss_ts-doa-p_1_11

Amazon Author Pg:     https://www.amazon.com/author/northofhwy8

    Apple Books: https://www.apple.co/4aOraBY  

    Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/caveman%20creek

    Twitter:  https://twitter.com/piamanning3

    Email: pia.manning@yahoo.com

   All Author:  https://allauthor.com/book/87193/hometown-spirits/

Hometown Spirits: Caveman Creek 4

Menage, Erotic Romance, Contemporary, Small Town, Spanking, MFM, HEA

Preorder link:   https://www.bookstrand.com/book/hometown-spirits-mfm

New from Lisabet Sarai– Two lovers? No problem?

WELCOME, LISABET!

Thanks, Alana.

Most authors put some of themselves into their characters. We can’t help it, really. We’re all shaped by our experience, in ways we can’t fully or consciously appreciate. Our characters are likely to share our assumptions, our biases and our values, whether this is our intention or not.

For instance, my female characters tend to be independent, well-educated and unapologetic about their sexuality. Anyone who knows me at all will recognize these traits also describe me. I don’t think I’ve ever written a helpless, timid virgin or a self-obsessed beauty queen. I don’t create violent characters, either, or at least not violent protagonists. You won’t find any mafia capos or special forces agents in my books. (The one exception is Cecily Harrowsmith in Rajasthani Moon, who is Queen Victoria’s spy, and she’s a slightly comic figure.)

Sometimes I deliberately try to create characters who are different from me, but that can be a struggle. The thing is, how can you imagine the inner life of someone whose background, priorities and goals deviate significantly from your own?

So my success varies. In that regard, I’m pretty proud of Wild About That Thing.

My heroine Ruby Jones is definitely not me. She’s a black woman, for one thing. As much as I try to empathize, I doubt I can really understand what it’s like to grow up black in America. She’s also a mother – a single mother, having divorced her cheating ex-husband. I’ve never had children, so it’s a stretch to imagine what it would be like to have total responsibility for someone else’s safety and well-being. Scary. My experience with marriage has been ninety nine percent positive. Ruby in contrast has been badly burned, and is naturally wary of new commitments.

Despite our differences, however, I feel that I know Ruby well. Early in the writing process, I learned about Ruby’s parents and came to see how her relationships with both her mother and her father shaped her personality and her behavior. Somehow these insights were not intellectual. Instead, I found myself in Ruby’s head, listening to her inner critic who often speaks with her mother’s voice.

Ruby is constantly torn between her analytical tendencies and her passionate nature. I suppose this is somewhat true of me, but in Ruby’s case the conflict is  particularly painful. One minute she’s a hard-headed businesswoman. The next, she’s a puddle of lust.

Anyway, I do hope my readers enjoy Ruby Jones. I feel that she’s one of the most realistic heroines I’ve created, as well as one of the most likable.

Note, though, that she still shares some attributes with me. She is independent and, as you might guess from the tag line, unapologetic about her sexuality.

She’s always been proud of her sensual nature. Now it seems to have landed her in an impossible situation. Two lovers…and she wants them both.

Ruby Jones has clear priorities. Her teenage son comes first, then her struggling blues club. Her love life ranks as a distant third, despite the efforts of Zeke Chambers to convince her otherwise. Zeke’s the lead singer in her house band, a devoted friend, and an occasional lover. He can drive her wild with desire, but can’t get her to make a commitment. Deserted by her cheating ex-husband, Ruby’s determined she’s going to make it on her own. She’s hot-blooded like her bluesman daddy, happy to satisfy her physical cravings, but she’s not about to let any man into her heart.

The stranger who takes the stage on open mike night upsets the delicate balance in Ruby’s world. From the moment Ruby sets eyes on him, Remy Saint-Michel inspires irresistible lust and inexplicable sympathy. Confused, guilty and worried about her prized independence, Ruby decides that the only way to deal with the two men is to push them both away. Zeke and Remy, however, have other ideas.

Note: Wild About That Thing was previously published by Totally Entwined. This new edition has been revised and re-edited.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1342-wild-about-that-thing-/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CPDD3JR9

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CPDD3JR9

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1485627

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wild-about-that-thing-lisabet-sarai/1110738210?ean=2940167659858

Kobo  – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/wild-about-that-thing-4

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6474285642

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/203152943-wild-about-that-thing

Add on BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/books/wild-about-that-thing-by-lisabet-sarai-2023-12-10

Excerpt :

The crowd erupted into claps and whistles as the Travellers finished their number. “Thank you kindly, ladies and gentlemen.” A decade in New York hadn’t erased the softness of the South from Zeke’s speech. “Welcome to our first open mic night here at the Crossroads. Hope you brought your axe, your sax or your harp—if you didn’t, well, hell, you can borrow ours! Everybody gets the blues sometimes. This is the place to let it all out!”

Fresh applause greeted Zeke’s invitation. He stood up there on the platform—his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans jacket, his axe hanging around his neck—and grinned like the country boy he used to be. At six-foot-one, with the solid build of a halfback, Zeke was an imposing figure. He’d broken up more than one drunken brawl for her over the past two years and he had a temper that could be scary. To Ruby and Isaiah, though, he’d been nothing but kind. Whatever success the Crossroads could claim was largely due to him.

“To kick things off tonight, I want to invite a very special lady to join us here on stage. She’s been through some hard times, friends, and she knows the blues. It’s in her blood, passed on from her daddy, Jimmy ‘The Harp’ Jones. When she sings, she spills her soul. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Ruby Jones, the lovely owner of the Crossroads Blues Bar!”

Applause filled the club. Zeke’s invitation hadn’t been a surprise. They’d discussed having her warm up the crowd, and of course, she’d been performing since she was a kid. Nevertheless, his effusive introduction made her feel self-conscious. Ruby wished she’d worn something a bit more glamorous than her usual jeans and tailored shirt.

She picked her way between the tables, headed for the stage. Zeke held out a big hand. When she grasped it, he swung her onto the platform, and quite neatly, into his arms. The crowd roared.

Zeke brushed his lips across hers. His distinctive scent engulfed her—clean sweat, Jim Beam and Ivory Soap. It was like turning on a movie—she instantly remembered the last time he’d been inside her. His blond stubble grazed her cheek. She saw him in her mind’s eye—body suspended above hers on powerful arms as he buried his cock in her pussy, fucking her with a smooth, steady rhythm while he scanned her face, focused on her pleasure. She felt again the way he stretched and filled her. The seam of her jeans teased her suddenly swollen clit. She wondered if Zeke could smell her growing dampness. Hell, what about the rest of the band?

“Stop it,” she whispered, pushing against his rock-hard chest.

Zeke released her with obvious reluctance. “I love her,” he told the audience, eliciting a chorus of hoots and whistles. Aching, hungry and guilt-ridden, Ruby knew he meant every word.

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, LGBTQ, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh