erotic romance

Follow in Lisabet Sarai’s footsteps as she takes you through a lustful landscape

Most authors borrow from their own experience in crafting their fiction, to a greater or lesser extent. People, places, and situations from our lives get selected, altered and recombined. This helps to make our tales lively, realistic and believable.

In my most recent release, Incognito, I mined my personal history to a greater extent than usual. The novel is set in the historic Beacon Hill district of Boston, with parallel plot lines in the present and in the late Victorian era. As it happens, I had the good fortune to live in Beacon Hill myself for eighteen months, back in the nineties, and I loved every minute. As I wandered along the cobblestone streets, marveling at the ivy-covered row houses, I felt as though I were going back in time. I’ve mentioned in other blog posts that I have a peculiar affinity for Victorian architecture, fashion and culture. Living in Beacon Hill was a dream come true.

My heroine Miranda literally walks in my footsteps. In fact, her apartment on Charles Street, with its wrought iron fire escape looking out on the brick alley, is more or less based on the place I rented. The antique and bric-a-brac shop where she discovers Beatrice’s diary was a place I often browsed. Louisburg Square, where Beatrice’s home is located, is as elegant today as it was in her time.

I even threw in some of my favorite restaurants. Both Iruña and the Guernavaca Cafe are closed now, but when I lived in Boston, they were much as described in the book. The trendy sandwich bar across from Miranda’s building where she and Lucy have lunch is also based on a real place – and according to the Internet, it’s still in business!

Of course some of the book’s locations come purely from my imagination, like the Fantasy Factory sex club and the seedy bar down by the waterfront where Miranda plays billiards with the bikers. All in all, though, I shamelessly indulged myself while writing Incognito, recreating many happy memories.

I wonder if my readers can tell?

Incognito New Release Giveaway

Win a $10 bookstore GC or free books in my INCOGNITO giveaway. Contest runs from June 1 to June 15.

To enter, do any or all of the following. (Each action is one entry.)

o Join my VIP email list: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

o Follow me on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lisabet-sarai

o Email me, telling me what book of mine you’d like to read:  contest@lisabetsarai.com

On June 16th, I will randomly select one grand-prize winner who’ll get a $10 gift certificate, plus two runner-ups who can choose any ebook from my indie back list.

THE STORY:

During the day, Miranda Cahill works diligently on her doctoral thesis. At night, she has sex with strangers.

Public coupling, multiple partners, age play, spankings, bondage, lesbian lust—each salacious adventure exposes new dimensions of her depravity. Her secret life explodes when she realizes her masked partner at a kink club and the charismatic colleague courting her are in fact the same man.

Dickens scholar Mark Anderson seems like an affable, uncomplicated Midwesterner, but he has hidden depths, myriad talents, and an unlimited appetite for erotic variety. With Mark as her guide,  Miranda comes to accept the intricacy of her own desires, as well as to trust her heart.

Reader Advisory: This novel is an erotic romance featuring a committed relationship and culminating in a wedding. Nevertheless, the main characters participate in a wide range of taboo sexual activities, both together and separately.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature: https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/362-incognito-secret-lives-forbidden-loves

Amazon US:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B1N7CTMQ

Amazon UK:  https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0B1N7CTMQ

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940165857058

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1147874

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/incognito-secret-lives-forbidden-loves

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61138791-incognito

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, Pinterest, and  Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

EXCERPT___VICTORIAN

June 12, 1886

I scarcely know how to commence this account of my adventures and my sins. Indeed, I do not fully understand why I feel compelled to commit these things to writing. Clearly, my purpose is not to review and relive these experiences in the future, for in twenty minutes’ time these sentences will be invisible even to me. Perhaps in the years ahead, I will trail my fingers across the empty parchment, colored like flesh, and the memories will come alive without the words, coaxed from the pages by my touch like flames bursting from cold embers.

I have a secret life, another self, and that secret has become a burden that I clutch to myself, and yet would be relieved of. So, like the Japanese who write their deepest desires on slips of rice paper and then burn them, I write of secret joys and yearnings, and send that writing into oblivion.

Let me begin again. My name is Beatrice. The world sees me as poised, prosperous, respectable, wife of one of Boston’s leading merchants and industrialists, mother of two sweet children, lady of a fine brick house on fashionable Mount Vernon Street, with Viennese crystal chandeliers, Chinese porcelain, French velvet draperies, and Italian marble fireplaces. I devote myself to the education of my dear Daniel and Louisa, the management of my household, works of charity, cultural afternoons. In sum, the many and sundry details of maintaining oneself in proper society.

Though I have borne two children, I am still considered beautiful. Indeed, with my golden locks, fair skin, sapphire eyes and rosy lips, I am often compared to an angel. How little they know, those who so describe me. For in truth, I am depraved, wanton, and lecherous, so lost that I do not even regret my fall.

My husband is a kind, intelligent, and honorable man, for whom I have the deepest regard and affection. He treats me with the utmost consideration and respect; he rarely comes to my bed and when he does, he is profuse with apologies for his unfortunate lust. Alas, he hardly knows or understands me. I understand him to a much greater extent, enough to know that I must lie still and silent under him, not move or cry out as his manhood dances inside me. Everyone knows that for proper women, the rites of the flesh are a trial that must be endured; men are subject to carnal weakness, and women’s lot is to be the passive receptacle of their spending. This is what my husband believes. Knowing he believes this takes the fire from the moment, and makes it easier for me to play my frigid, compliant role.

I know better, though.

Today, I walked in Louisburg Square with Daniel, Louisa, and their nurse. The weather was glorious, sky of limpid blue sown with fluffy clouds, new leaves dancing in the breeze. My parasol raised against the sun, I did not see him until he was almost upon us.

He was of medium height, sumptuously attired, as fair-haired and blue-eyed as I. His mouth had a fullness that I liked, the look of someone who savors the sweet things in life, and a readiness to smile. As he swept off his hat and bowed, I noticed his hands, with long delicate fingers clad in beige kid gloves.

“Good afternoon, Madame,” he said courteously. “I trust that you and your children are enjoying this fine weather.”

Meanwhile, his eyes were sending me a different, more intimate message, which would have been lost on someone who was not sensitized to such things. There were no words in this message, only images, emotions, sensation, a quickening of breath, a heat, a tightening.

I am perpetually amazed at how we recognize each other, those of us who live beyond the pale of propriety. Is it some primal scent that we exude? Some subtle clue in posture or expression? Could it in fact be some spiritual connection, a mingling of thoughts in the ether? The mechanism is obscure to me, but I know the phenomenon only too well. I have sat in a concert hall with two hundred elegantly dressed, respectable members of proper society and found my eyes drawn to a single face in the balcony, a set of eyes that knew me, saw through my finery to the hungry flesh beneath.

“Good afternoon, Sir,” I said, my voice low and modest. “It is indeed fine, especially for so early in the season.”

“Of course, that may indicate that it will become hot sooner than usual.” The gentleman’s eyes sparkled with humor at his little private joke. Hot indeed, I thought to myself, adjusting my expression to signal some slight disapproval.

“I do not believe that I have the pleasure of your acquaintance, Sir,” I said.

“Forgive me for my lack of courtesy.” He reached into his waistcoat, withdrew a card and wrote something upon it. “Here is my card.”

“Thank you.” I examined the card. It was not, in fact, a visiting card, but a blank upon which he had inscribed the following few words:

Ten O’clock this evening    

No. __ Beacon Street         

With respect and hope,    

Charles Burnside

His name was unknown to me. Clearly he must be one of the many visitors to our prosperous city. I gave him my most luminous smile. “Perhaps we will meet again, Sir.” “I do hope so, Madame. Adieu for now.”

A new steamy release from Lisabet Sarai!

A fated encounter. A familiar stranger. A storm of passion. Can Ondine release her fear, surrender to Marut’s power, and claim her own?  

Marine biologist Ondine Ambrose has always felt at home in the sea. Orphaned at birth and raised by her grandmother on the island of Martha’s Vineyard, she has never really questioned her extraordinary affinity for the watery world.

When she encounters an attractive but arrogant engineer on her private beach, surveying the site for a prospective off-shore wind farm, anger is her first reaction. A casual touch, however, transforms that emotion to incomprehensible, irresistible, terrifying lust.

Ebony-skinned Marut has his own talents—aside from his uncanny ability to swamp Ondine with desire. He can control the winds and summon storms. When he insists that they are both more than human, and that she is his destined mate, Ondine responds with skepticism. She tries to resist the charismatic Haitian, but ultimately she cannot deny the evidence of her senses—and her heart.

Buy Links

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09Y2P7741

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09Y2P7741

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1142402

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940165838149

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/rough-weather-elemental-passions-book-2

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1619557657

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60820375-rough-weather

Excerpt – R rated!

She’d always taken her abilities for granted, figuring that perhaps they were some compensation from the universe for having snatched her mother at birth. Nevertheless, she didn’t flaunt her differences. When she dived with the other scientists from her team, she donned the unnecessary wetsuit, tanks and regulator. No point in encouraging idle speculation.

“So? What the devil does that have to do with you? With us?” Her harsh tone was a deliberate attempt to hide her uncertainty.

“I’m like you. Human, but with extra-human gifts. And you are my destined mate, Ondine—no matter how hard you try to deny the fact.”

Marut rose from the table, imposing despite the shabby robe that hung from his powerful frame. The garment gaped open, revealing the smooth ebony swell of his chest. Belted at Marut’s narrow waist, the faded terry hid his groin, but Ondine didn’t have to see the man’s magnificent cock to know it was swollen with desire, the same desire that had soaked the crotch of her sweatpants.

His mate. Ridiculous! And yet there was something mysterious and inevitable in her attraction to this stranger. Determined to fight that inexplicable desire, she turned towards the back door.

“I’ll go fetch your clothes,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

The Wedgwood-blue morning sky and brilliant sun had disappeared to be replaced by masses of lead-gray cloud. The muggy air was thick as syrup, so heavy it was practically an effort to breathe. Marut’s jeans and shirt hung limply on the line, along with the laundry she’d hung before heading for the beach. With the humidity, Ondine feared they’d still be damp, but the earlier sun appeared to have done its work. Both articles were dry enough for her unwelcome visitor to wear. He could leave as soon as he dressed. Relief mingled with regret as she squeezed the clothes pin holding the T-shirt.

A sudden, brisk wind sprang up, tugging at her hair and whipping the stiff denim of the suspended jeans against her belly. Startled, she dropped the white cotton onto the sandy soil. The breeze caught the garment and whisked it away, a tumble of white, until it caught on one of the points of the picket fence. With a sigh, she padded barefoot across the yard to retrieve it.

“Ondine.”

She whirled to face him. She hadn’t heard the squeak of the old screen door hinges, yet there he was, tall and dark as a thunderhead—gloriously naked. His piercing eyes pinned her in place. His noble forehead arched up to the explosion of frizzy curls that framed his skull. His skin gleamed as though it had been oiled. He stood before her—no, loomed above her—his muscled legs parted, his arms crossed over his chest, sniffing for her all-too-obvious scent. His nostrils flared like a thoroughbred racehorse and his prominent lips curled into a confident smile.

And there, rising from its nest of inky fur, was the cock she’d caressed out on the beach, a proud cylinder of dark flesh with a slick, mauve cap. In their frenzied groping upon the rocks, she hadn’t really seen his organ clearly, but now…

She’d read that primitive cultures worshipped the phallus as the source of all power. Now she understood, in a most visceral sense, how this could be. She wanted to fall on her knees before this vision of male potency, to beg for a touch, for a taste. Use me, something in her cried, though in fact his beauty and vitality struck her dumb. Helpless, terrified, swamped by need, she waited for him to make the first move.

The strange wind blew around them. Marut’s eyes glittered like chips of hematite. He stared into her soul, asking questions she didn’t dare acknowledge. Unable to bear his scrutiny for more than a few moments, she dropped her gaze to his bare feet, graceful and strong as the rest of him, and waited for him to take her.

“Ondine.” Her name on his lips was moonlight on a tropical lagoon, a gentle surf kissing the shore.

About the Author

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, Pinterest, BookBub, BingeBooks and Twitter.

Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.

 …”Very steamy, explicit, full of action, and guaranteed HEA”–is Inevitable for you?

Please welcome Melverna McFarlane!

When I decided to seriously write, I had a difficult time deciding what genre to write in. I love Romance, Epic Fantasy, and Young Adult Fantasy. I finally settled on Romance because it is by far the genre I read and love the most. It spans so many sub-genres that I couldn’t go wrong.

The idea for my first romance novel, Inescapable, came pretty easy to me.

Writing was a different ball game. There was a huge learning curve for me, but I actually enjoy the process. Even the days where words hide from me and the story stalls because I haven’t quite gotten the right mix of plot and character to move the story on.

When it came to writing Inevitable, I initially had no intention of writing a series. The couple featured in this sophomore novel, René and Nico, kept hounding me for a resolution to their broken love story. My readers wanted to them to be happy, and they wanted to be happy. So I explored their personal histories and the reason for their previous relationship ending and came out with a book about two beautifully flawed people who needed each other. Of course, I mixed their love story in with action and the dangers of Nico’s mafia lifestyle.

I’m really excited for the reception of this book, and my other author friends keep telling me this won’t go away. It makes sense. Each book is my child and once it’s published my child is leaving the safety of my home for the brave unknown of the world. What matters is that readers find the book entertaining and they feel an emotional connection to the ups and downs my book babies go through.

Blurb

Nico

Four years ago, I made one mistake, and she left. I couldn’t convince her to stay no matter how much I loved her. Still love her. But one day she turns up at my door asking for my protection. A rival family is threatening her life and the business she busted her ass for. No matter what unresolved issues lie between us, the heartache I’ve carried, or the dreams I wish were reality, I won’t let anyone threaten her or the family I had always wanted to be mine. I will always protect her. But I am more than just a temporary bodyguard. I have a second chance to show her my love is worth fighting for, and I will claim her completely. With this new chance, she can’t escape the inevitable.

René

Asking Nico for help is the last thing I want to do. After breaking up with him four years ago, I am not ready to be reminded of all the reasons I fell in love with him, to begin with. Avoiding him becomes impossible when he is still the only man I trust to protect me and my family from a rival mafia boss intent on ruining our lives. His every touch reignites my passions. Though I fight it, and will never admit it, my feelings for my ex had never died. As the heat between us flames to new heights, he tempts me with the possibility of a second chance at love.

Please Note: Both Inescapable and Inevitable can be read as standalone novels in the expanding Oliveri Mafia series

Buy Links $4.99

UShttps://www.amazon.com/dp/B09WH5LTPM

Series Link—https://www.amazon.com/dp/B099MW7L8M

Excerpt – rated PG

“You’ve got this,” René told herself. She straightened her posture, and faced the door she had walked out of three years ago with no intention of ever returning. “It’s not like I am crawling back. If it weren’t for Onika I wouldn’t even be here right now.”

Although René was a first-generation American and had lived in the states her entire life, her family was big, loud, close, and international. With her childhood summer vacations spent in Jamaica, she and Onika, who had only moved to Felicidad two years ago, might as well have been twins. They spend almost every day of their breaks together.

Two years ago, René had offered to help Onika get settled, but her stubborn-ass cousin rejected her offer. Now René was a target with few options.

It was too late to lament her current circumstances, her business was at stake.

Okay, her life and Onikas were also at stake which technically was more important.

But damn, René had worked her ass off to become a hairstylist whose growing popularity resulted in two successful salons. She’d spent years renting chairs in other people’s salons while doing hair in her parents’ extension. Nights, weekends, and friendships were sacrificed on the altar of her dream. Finally, success had started trickling into her life. And now there was a threat to everything she had poured her soul into building, not to mention her life.

She wanted to curse Onika’s name, but Onika was only part of the equation. Who knew her friendship with Jessie would one day up the stakes to her dilemma?

There she went, hyping herself up when she needed a calm head to deal with that man behind the door. If anyone had gotten her wrapped up in drama she would have bet the bank on him—Nico Donini.

All this time she had avoided his name. In her mind, he was an abstract idea. Because thinking his name brought inevitable memories. Not the rip your heart out memories but the warm, cuddle sessions that plagued her after she’d ended things. They whispered to her of the what-ifs she could never voice.

Desperation had driven her here but it didn’t cancel out Nico as her wisest choice. Who was she fooling? She was not ready to face Nico. She spun to her car once again.

Before her first full step, the voice still haunting her dreams said, “Running again? You haven’t changed, have you?”

Author Bio

Melverna McFarlane loves stories with Happily Ever Afters. After years of characters taunting her imagination with their potential, she decided it was time to write her own scorching hot romances. She moved to America from Jamaica at a young age, and has lived up and down the east coast most of her life. The bitterly cold winter of 2013 was the last straw, driving her back to island life—this time to Hawaii. When not writing, she is reading romance, YA, and Fantasy, country hopping, or vicariously obsessing over other people’s cats (she awaits the day her landlords succumb to the truth: feline domination should be everyone’s goal in life).

Social Media Links

Website: https://www.melvernamcfarlane.com

Amazon Author Profile: https://www.amazon.com/Melverna-McFarlane/e/B098KP2DXN

FB reader group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/353173499490610

Newsletter: https://tinyurl.com/ydk45fkx

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MelvernaM

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/melverna_mcfarlane/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21632673.Melverna_McFarlane

BookBub Author Profile: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/melverna-mcfarlane

Newsletter sign up (receive a FREE ebook of Nobody’s Wingman) https://tinyurl.com/2p9bvazp

Sometimes, romance can be hell…

Paranormal BDSM erotic romance (Five flames)

Approximately 29,000 words

HEA ending

ISBN: 9781005020088

ASIN: B09PSN7XGX

#bdsm #eroticromance #bondage #discipline #dominance #submission  #sextoys #buttplug #faust #author #demon #pnr #infernalcontract

Tag Line

Sometimes romance can be hell

Long Blurb

Wendy Dennison is tired of being a starving author. The royalties from her critically acclaimed romance novels barely pay her bills. Her devoted agent Daniel Rochester may be smart and sexy, but he can’t get her the sales she needs. Then a charismatic stranger appears at her coffee shop table, promising her fame and commercial success, as well as the chance to live out her dreams of erotic submission. But at what cost?

Nothing you can’t afford to lose, my dear.

Seduced by the enigmatic Mister B, she signs his infernal contract. He becomes both her Master and her coach, managing her suddenly flourishing career as well as encouraging her lusts. Under her mentor’s nefarious influence, she surrenders to temptation and has sex with Daniel. The casual encounter turns serious when she discovers her mild mannered agent has a dominant side. As the clock ticks down to her blockbuster release and Mister B prepares to claim her soul, Wendy must choose either celebrity and wealth, or obscurity and true love. 

Quotes

“Lisabet Sarai writes the most beautiful erotic prose. Her stories tease at the senses and transport you to a world of sexual pleasure.” ~ Desiree Holt, queen of BDSM erotic romance and author of Forward Pass

“I’ve always been a fan—Lisabet Sarai’s erotic fiction is certain to captivate, dominate, and leave readers begging for more.” ~ Alison Tyler, best-selling author of erotic BDSM memoirs Dark Secret Love and Even Deeper.

Buy Links (Ebook)

Kinky Literature: https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/713-damned-if-you-do/

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09PSN7XGX

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09PSN7XGX

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/damned-if-you-do-lisabet-sarai/1126292735?ean=2940165738319

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1124531

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/damned-if-you-do-12

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35009284-damned-if-you-do

Buy Links (Audio)

Narrated by Audrey Lusk

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Damned-If-You-Do/dp/B078NC1MGN/

Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/Erotica-Sexuality/Damned-If-You-Do-Audiobook/B078NC27YX/

General Tweet

A struggling author makes an infernal bargain with a demon Dom. Damned If You Do by @LisabetSarai

Quote Tweets

The way he said “surrender” turned her to mush. Damned If You Do,  #BDSM #paranormalromance from @LisabetSarai

There was no way she could escape, not until he let her. Damned If You Do, #BDSM #paranormalromance from @LisabetSarai

General Facebook Post

A struggling author makes an infernal bargain with a demon Dom. Check out Lisabet Sarai’s sizzling BDSM erotic romance Damned If You Do. Available now at your favorite bookseller!

About Lisabet Sarai

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (https://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (https://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 and get a free ebook, plus exclusive contents and other benefits: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Agony that burns – until it sets you alight with pleasure

M/f and F/m BDSM Erotica PLEASE NOTE==EXPLICIT
60,000 words
Amazon KDP – Free on Kindle Unlimited
ASIN: ‎ B097HJYMFC
Hashtags/Keywords


Blurb


For some people, kink is a game, a way to spice up sex by adding a hint of taboo. This book isn’t about those people.
These stories dig deeper, baring souls, exposing the heady thrill of power and surrender, intimacy and complicity. In the passionate dance of dominant and submissive, there is no tomorrow. There is only now, balanced between pleasure and pain, breathless with forbidden possibilities.

Buy Links
Kinky Literature:

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B097HJYMFC/
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B097HJYMFC/
Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B097HJYMFC/
Amazon AU: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B097HJYMFC/
Universal Amazon Link: https://rxe.me/HJYMFC
Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58372150-bound-and-breathless

Tweets
The heady thrill of power and surrender, intimacy and complicity. BOUND AND BREATHLESS: PASSIONATE KINK, new #BDSM #erotica from @LisabetSarai http://bit.ly/PassionateKink

Online Excerpt
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2021/06/sample-my-new-release-bdsm-erotica.html

Brief Snippets
The whip feels like an extension of my body. No, that’s not right; it’s an extension of my mind. I imagine a lovely pattern of traces on his upper thighs, and they burst into being, accompanied by his cries of pain. ~ from Shades of
Red

His hands on my body and his iron will are my only realities. It’s what I’ve craved all my life and never known. I swear I never dreamed of this – did I? He makes me wonder, as he fucks me like the slut that I am. Perhaps I’ve always
craved this kind of surrender, my dark desires hidden even from myself. ~ from Never Too Late

“I know you, Lissa. I’ve read every book you’ve written. I’ve watched you, on the street, at readings, working at your computer. You don’t want timid games. You’re afraid to admit it – I understand – but you want marks. Bruises. Blood.
You want to be tested, stretched to the breaking point and beyond.” ~ from Muse


“See how sharp it is, Becca. We want clean cuts – no jagged edges. Deep. Perfect. Beautiful.” A manic glee illumines his face now. The tender lover has vanished. The sadist has come out to play. A frisson of terror crawls up my spine. I remind myself of all the other times this man has dangled me over the edge of the precipice and still kept me safe. My fear transmutes into searing lust. ~ from Limits: A Love Story

Excerpt
PG-Rated – From Body Electric

“You! Come over here.” I started, my meditations interrupted by a rich, unfamiliar voice. The female crowd around Moresby had dispersed, and sure enough, he was beckoning to me.
Rude, I thought, but I obeyed him anyway.
“I don’t know you, do I?” He smiled down at me. My brief irritation at his lack of manners melted away in the heat of that smile.
“I’m Colette D’Arpignay. I just joined the Department of Languages and Literature this semester.”
“Oh, right! The Sex Professor!”
I felt the blood rising in my cheeks. “Oh dear! I didn’t realize that sobriquet had spread outside my own department.”
“Never mind. It doesn’t hurt to have a bit of a racy reputation. Makes you more interesting.” He scanned my body, not even trying to disguise his lascivious interest. “The question is, do you deserve it?”
My earlobes burned. Despite the air conditioning, sweat trickled down between my breasts. I was acutely aware of my tightened nipples, pressing against the purple jersey of my top. I couldn’t look at him.
He leaned over like a conspirator and delicately flicked one terribly obvious bud with his forefinger. A bolt of lightning sizzled through me and ignited a sudden blaze between my thighs.
“I’m willing to bet that you do deserve it,” he murmured, close to my ear.
I pulled back, stumbling on my high heels, trying to regain control. “Please, Dr. Moresby. Remember where we are.” He did not look in the least repentant. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Oh?” He looked at me skeptically, eyebrows raised. “I’m not sure I believe that. Anyway, call me Ryan.” He dug in his pocket and produced a slightly crumpled business card. “Here’s my card.”
I took it, unwilling but somehow unable to refuse it.
“And may I have yours, Colette?” His eyes seized mine and wouldn’t let me look away. Later I couldn’t remember their color – only their intensity.
It seemed that I was moving in dreamlike slow motion as I extracted a card from my purse and handed it to him. He nodded. “Good. It’s got both your office and your cell. We’ll talk soon.”
Dean Evans appeared, with a busty, forty-something blonde in tow. “Excuse me for interrupting, Ryan, but I must introduce you to Larissa Carter, from Biology. She just came to us from UC San Francisco.”

“Dr. Carter.” He took her hand and half-bowed. “I’m delighted to meet you.”
She looked as charmed by him as everyone else. I wondered if he’d tweak her nipples, too.
I turned to go. His hand on my arm stopped me. I was wearing long sleeves, but somehow I felt as though he was touching bare skin. “Don’t forget, Colette. I want to hear all about your research.”
“And I want to learn about yours,” I replied archly.
“Oh, you will,” he said with a strange smile, then turned the magic of his attention back to the buxom biologist.

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 , Pinterest , and
Twitter . Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Play time is past, time to grow up: The Ramadan Nights

They’re not kids anymore. 

Just when he starts to get his act together,  Mansur wakes to an empty bed and a crying baby. His wife leaves him with their infant on the day he starts a new job. Uneasy and alone, he looks across the street to Faiza for help. As he relies on their long friendship, desires for the sexy firefighter reawaken within him. 

Faiza can’t deny Mansur, even though she should. Her heart broke when he married another woman. She got herself together and moved on. Now, he is back in their childhood neighborhood and her life. She knows they’re just friends, but she can’t help longing for more.  

Family and culture kept them apart when young, but Mansur won’t allow interference from anyone or anything. He is determined to make Faiza more than just a friend.

The Groom is a boy-next-door romance full of passion and an alpha who proves that he is no longer a little boy. **NO cliffhanger, Guaranteed HEA.**’

Series Blurb

Fast, pray, love. 

The men of the Ramadan Nights series love their Creator and women.

Igniting passion within them is worship.

The Ramadan Nights series features four exciting and inspirational romances by bestselling and award-winning authors. Get ready to be captivated by characters as they explore the links between faith and sensuality. This vibrant series includes a spectrum of New Adult and Adult fiction, from sweet to steamy. Enjoy romance stories of second chance love, friends to lovers …

Fall in love with strong, confident alphas and heroines as they undergo tests of resolve to love and captivate each other from sunset until daybreak.

EXCERPT:

Faiza reached for the popcorn bowl before Mansur put it on the table. “Thank you.”

He smiled and sat at Beni’s feet; his little body stretched between them. “Do you want anything else?”

“What you, need more time away from the feeding frenzy?” She popped a handful of buttery goodness in her mouth, looking at the screen and him.

He sat and rested an ankle on the opposite knee. “I told you, I’ve changed. So, let’s get into your sick fixation with cannibalism.”

She scoffed. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not cannibalism. The Titans aren’t human, not exactly, anyway. They’re shifters. “She moved to the edge of her seat. A giant scooped up a poor townsperson, gnashing the snack between its enormous teeth. “See, that’s what happens when you don’t listen.” Her guffaws burst through the room with the next fighting scene. “Oops, Beni.” She covered her mouth and looked down at him. Barely a move. “Who am I kidding? He can sleep through anything.”

Mansur draped an arm over the back of the sofa. “That’s the truth.” He lifted one of Beni’s arm. It fell flat on the couch.

She waved a hand. “Stop that. We don’t want to take any chances. We’re only done with season one.”

“Wait, how many of these things are we supposed to watch?”

She lifted more popcorn in front of her lips. “It depends. How sorry do you feel? I think at least the first three seasons is enough penance.”

“Three?”

“It’s the weekend.”

“We have prayer.”

“We’ll make them between seasons like we did the last one. All you’re doing is proving that you’re still frightened.”

“Oh, I’m not scared. Fine, three seasons.”

She shoved the popcorn in her mouth, chest swelled with victory.

He winked. “I guess I’ll sleep here.”

That got a gasp out of her, allowing a piece of popcorn to wedge in the back of her throat. She lurched forward, coughing with no noise, grabbing the edge of the table for dear life. Bits of chewed popcorn sprayed in front of her, but the one morsel killing her stayed lodged.

“Crap, Faiza.” Mansur lifted and spun her. He wrapped his strong arms under her breasts and pulled her against him.

She clamped her hands over his hairy forearms. It would have been a turn on if she weren’t dying. The popcorn flew across the room after Mansur’s third try. Her entire belly ached, and pride sat lying on the floor next to the hunk food in a tiny pool of saliva. “Tha—thank …” She bent over, resting her hands on her knees while he stroked her back.

“Just breathe.” His soothing words clashed with a series of explosions bursting from the screen. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” She fell back in her seat. He sat across from her on the coffee table. “Humiliated, but fine.”

He laughed. “For real? It’s me, Mansur.”

She met his gaze. The kindness in his gray eyes drove away concerns of dying and flesh-eating giants. He was right. She shouldn’t be embarrassed, not with him. “I know it’s you. I’m glad it’s you.” She couldn’t stop staring at him. “Listen. We’ve been friends since we were babies, but lately—” A knock at the front door stopped her.

Author Bio

Lyndell Williams is an award-winning writer and bestselling author. She is a cultural critic with a background in literary criticism specializing in romance. She is an editor, writing coach and mentor. She has been published in peer-reviewed journals and writes for multiple online publications.

Author Links

Blog – https://laylawriteslove.com/ 

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/laylawriteslove/ 

Twitter – https://twitter.com/laylawriteslove 

Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/laylawriteslove/

YouTube – https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWpN2YTkr9cGO9Z7-AB8xNw

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/laylawriteslove 

Amazon – http://amazon.com/author/laylawriteslove

Pinterest – https://www.pinterest.com/abdullahpoulos/lyndell-williams-author/

Newsletter – bit.ly/lwlnewsletter   

Mistletoe kisses, Yuletide passion and a sprinkling of kink: Lisabet Sarai visits!

Holiday erotic romance boxed set 38,000 words, 135 pages

Amazon and Kindle Unlimited MF, MFM, MM, Five flames – HEA/HFN

ASIN: B08P2CM6KL

Tag Line Mistletoe kisses, Yuletide passion and a sprinkling of kink

Blurb

Kick off the festive season with this red-hot celebration of holiday love. An aging author of kinky romance surrenders to the charm of her rock star neighbor. A selfish, cynical stock broker finds himself rescued by a spunky homeless girl. On her Dom husband’s orders, a devoted submissive provides Christmas service to his best friend. A gay grad student moonlighting at a sex shop discovers it’s definitely worthwhile to stay open on Christmas Eve.

Let Lisabet warm you up with a generous portion of comfort, joy and sensual pleasure.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature –

Amazon  US –  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08P2CM6KL

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08P2CM6KL

Add on Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/56030561-comfort-joy

Tweets

Let Lisabet warm you up this holiday seaon! #HotRomance #BoxedSet #Christmas @LisabetSarai https://bit.ly/SeasonalSteam

Mistletoe kisses, Yuletide passion and a sprinkling of kink! #BDSM #BoxedSet #Christmas @LisabetSarai https://bit.ly/SeasonalSteam

Online Excerpt:

https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2020/11/charity-sunday-shelter-and-more-for.html

PG Excerpt (from “Cherry Pie and Mistletoe”)

“Wait! Just a minute. This is silly. We’re not teenagers. We need a bed.”

He chuckled. “There’s a sleep cubby behind the cab of my rig, but we’d be packed in like sardines. I actually think the booth’d be more comfortable.”

I giggled. “I did have sex in the back of an eighteen wheeler once, when I was hitching to the West Coast. A long time ago… Anyway, that won’t be necessary. Come home with me.”

“Huh? What about the truck?”

“Leave it here. My house is just down the road. An easy walk.” I clambered off the bench. “Give me a sec to close things up here and we can go.”

Bushy eyebrows knotted together, Dave looked doubtful. “You sure, Marnie? You wanna bring a total stranger into your home?”

“You’re no stranger,” I replied, turning off the coffee machine and flipping light switches. “You ate my pie.” I stepped into the kitchen to lock the back door and grab my jacket. “And I ate you,” I added , when I’d rejoined him in the main room of the diner. “I’d say we were pretty well acquainted.”

I left the little Christmas tree on, its lights twinkling through the fogged windows, but shut down the main sign. The neon Indian chief above the steel plated roof faded into darkness. Hand in hand, Dave and I stepped out of the vestibule, into the calm, cold night.

The wind had died and, as predicted, the messy precipitation of earlier had turned to snow. White flakes tumbled around us like feathers after a pillow fight. They landed on my cheeks, each one a tiny, icy prickle on my warm skin. I filled my lungs with the clean, frigid air, feeling more alive than I could remember.

A couple of inches had already accumulated, on the ground and on the hood of Dave’s shiny green cab. He was right; the tractor-trailer took up the entire parking area. I squeezed his fingers, then brushed my other hand across his groin. “That’s a big rig you have there,” I commented. “Must be hard to handle.”

“I’ve never had any problems,” he replied, reaching around my back to palm my breast. He grinned down at me, his curly hair dusted with glittering snowflakes. “Now where’s this house of yours? Or should I ravish you right here in front of your diner?”

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, Pinterest, and  Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh