Halloween

A different sort of Broome for Halloween

Australians and overseas tourists love Broome where much of my novel ‘Broome Enigma’ is set. A tropical, cosmopolitan town in the Australian Outback, its isolation and colorful red cliffs, white sands and turquoise ocean evoke a primeval response in visitors.

Once seen, the reds of Gantheaume Point and the vast white sands and turquoise sea of Cable beach will stay in the mind.

When writing of Broome and of travel between Broome and Perth, I drew on personal memories of the area. My travel book ‘Exploring Outback Australia’, with photos and maps by my husband, Hartley Tobin, provided further prompts.

A goodlooking tanned young man we saw working in an Outback caravan park inspired the creation of ‘Broome Enigma’s’ hero Joe and the story. Dressed only in jeans and sandals and shifting around sprinklers, he looked as if he had just stepped off a film set about surfers. However, his personality did not match this image. He did not smile and had a ‘dampened down’ personality. Wondering how someone like him came to be working in a caravan park, I played the ‘What If…?’ game. In time answers formed and I came up with a hero whose past life was shrouded in mystery. This eventually led to a back story. He and the heroine Jodie set out to uncover the secrets of his past.

Early on, the title popped into my head. It fitted because the novel was set in Broome and the hero, a complex person, was a mystery, as were various layers of the story, such as the underbelly in Broome society I constructed.

I wanted ‘Broome Enigma’ to be a good read, in which readers shared the emotional rollercoaster experienced by the two main characters, especially the heroine as the book is through her point of view. As reader Jill Sutton, wrote,I very much enjoyed joining all the characters in their exciting adventures.”

Even better if the book made readers feel good about themselves and about the world and maybe learned something they didn’t know before. As reader, Kathy McKean wrote, “I felt sad to finish the novel. I felt like I had lost some new friends that I had made and whose company I enjoyed.”

By spending time with pleasant people who have faced up to and overcome serious challenges, hopefully readers will also have insights into their own challenges, especially in their search for a special person with whom to share their life.

Many people have now read my book and many comment on the setting, Broome in 1986, when life was slower and mobile phones were not in use. (This was important to the unfolding of the story.) Those who have visited the area said it brings back memories, while others who haven’t been said they were inspired to visit.

On a working holiday in Australia’s cosmopolitan Outback town of Broome in 1986, Jodie, a young book designer and artist is open to romance and adventure.

 At the holiday village where she is staying, she meets Joe, a young man who works there. Despite the strong attraction between them, the many unknowns about his earlier life keep them apart. To try to uncover his mysterious past, they travel to Perth and back to Broome and are drawn into not only bizarre but also dangerous situations.

Is Joe the person she thinks he is, or is he some alter ego? Can Jodie and Joe stop their relationship from developing until they have answers and know if he is free to love her?

Excerpt:

A big gust of wind rocked the van and flung Jodie hard against Joe. He pushed her off.

“Joe, it’s me, Jodie! Wake up, wake up!”

“Jodie, is that you?” He threw his arms around her and buried his head in her chest.

She brushed his hair back from his sweating face. “Take it easy, Joe. Take deep breaths. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He stopped shaking and pulled back from her. “What’s happening?”

“It’s the cyclone. Don’t you remember?”

Another huge gust shook the van and sent Jodie sprawling on Joe’s bunk and into the wall. “Ow, that hurt!” She picked herself up and rubbed her head.

The van rocked violently again. Joe and Jodie grabbed for handholds.

“Quick, come into my bed with me, Joe. It will be safer there.” Tripping and feeling their way along the wall, the two made their way to the double bed and clambered in.

Her breathing coming in short spasms, she lay on her back and took deep breaths. The storm whined and screeched about her, and the roof creaked and scraped.

“Oh, my god, the roof’s going to take off any minute!”

Joe’s arms enveloped her. “Hush, everything will be all right. But will you be okay if we have to make a run for it?”

“Yes.” She let out a sob. “But I like our chances better in here than out there.”

Joe kissed her forehead. He pulled her closer and they lay locked against each other while the storm raged around them.

Social media links:

https://www.facebook.com/meryl.tobin.18

https://sites.google.com/view/merylbrowntobin-author

Buy links: ‘Broome Enigma’ is for sale in book stores and on over 40 websites in at least 16 countries including Australia, Austria, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, France, Germany, India, Italy, Japan, New Zealand, Spain, The Netherlands, Switzerland, UK and USA.

Websites include https://www.amazon.com.au/Broome-Enigma-Meryl-Brown-Tobin/dp/1509250638

Broome Enigma by Meryl Brown Tobin | Goodreads.

Bio

A former secondary teacher, Australian writer Meryl Brown Tobin has published 22 books, including a novel, travel book, educational puzzle books and poetry books, and hundreds of poems, puzzles, short stories, articles, cartoons and comic strips. A guest on Ch7’s children’s TV program The Book Place, she and a presenter read her children’s picture storybook LEFTY.

Apart from family and home, her interests include travel, bushwalking, conservation, current affairs and social justice issues. The Tasmanian Tiger fascinates her, and she’d love to prove it is not extinct.

New paranormal romance from Lisabet Sarai!

BDSM and Romance

“BDSM? Yuck!” I have the impression that this represents the reaction of many romance readers when someone offers them a title that includes Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, or Masochism. What is romantic about pain, suffering and humiliation? Why would anyone enjoy reading about whippings, spankings, restraints that contort the body into embarrassing and awkward positions, severe punishments that are administered in response to the tiniest lapse in obedience? My personal position is that BDSM literature (sometimes labeled D/s – Dominance and submission) can be as emotionally satisfying and erotically charged as any romance.

For me, the essence of a D/s relationship lies in the emotional bond between the dominant and the submissive. The physical trappings and conventional activities – the riding crop and the gag, the handcuffs and the nipple clamps, the whippings and the binding – are side issues, merely the methods chosen to express, explore, and strengthen the bond. Others may associate BDSM with humiliation, cruelty, abuse, and agony. In my view, BDSM is about devotion, commitment, trust, and ecstasy.

The BDSM that I write, and that I enjoy reading, focuses primarily on the connection between the characters in the “power exchange”. What do I mean by “power exchange”? This D/s jargon refers to the fact that submissive voluntarily gives up control to the dominant. In return, the dominant accepts responsibility for the submissive’s well-being and ultimately, for his or her pleasure. The sub surrenders herself to the Dom, in devotion and trust. (For now I’ll assume a female submissive. I’ve written both male- and female-dominant tales, as well as some lesbian D/s, but it gets awkward to keep using multiple pronouns!) The Dom can do whatever he wants with the sub; she has, after all, given her consent. He has the intoxicating knowledge that by taking what he desires, he will also give his sub what she most craves: the satisfaction of pleasing her master and the freedom to experience her most intimate fantasies of ravishment and abuse. 

But what about the pain? Intense emotional connection, trust, devotion, that all sounds wonderful, but is it worth suffering beneath the lash, enduring the ropes biting into your flesh? I don’t particularly seek out pain, though I understand that some BDSM practitioners do. In any case, pain is a strange thing. It depends on expectations as much as on reality. I have read that native American women did not experience any pain at childbirth because their culture viewed labor and delivery as joyous and easy. (Those of you who are mothers might be skeptical.)

Personal experience has taught me that when you are unbelievably turned-on, pain does not necessarily feel bad. For one thing, elevated levels of endorphins  decrease pain sensitivity levels. Whip strokes and spankings stimulate the senses; it is the mind that translates them as pleasure or pain, or sometimes both at once.

Have I convinced you that dominance and submission can be romantic? If not, perhaps you’d be interested to know that, although I live half a world away from him, and am married to another man, the man I call Master and I still send each other Valentines. And every time I write a BDSM scene, I think of him, with gratitude and love.

I am who I am, and I know what you want.

Rebecca believes in magic. She has never lost her childhood love of Halloween, when she can don a costume and step away from her boring, ordinary self. For one night, she transforms into someone else – someone mysterious, daring, sensual and seductive.

When All Hallow’s Eve finds her stranded at a seedy motel a hundred miles from her friend’s annual party, she is desperately disappointed. Then she discovers that her room is haunted by the invisible but unquestionably virile ghost of a rake who seduced local women nearly half a century earlier.

EXCERPT: (rated R)

The costume worked its magic. I was astonished at how regal I looked, and how desirable. The bodice pinched my waist to tiny dimensions, and forced my breasts upwards. The square-cut neckline drew attention to my swelling flesh, barely hiding my nipples. In fact, they were not hidden at all. Though I’d lined the top with muslin as the pattern specified, the tight nubs were clearly visible through several layers of fabric.

I cradled my breasts and used my thumbs to trace circles around those sensitive buds. With each cycle, the spring of tension in my pelvis wound tighter. A light flick of my thumbnail sent electricity down my spine and triggered spasms of pleasure. I worried briefly that the juices trickling out of my pussy would spoil the satin. But after all, what did it matter? There was no one to see me tonight, no one to please but myself.

“You certainly do look sexy. Like something right out of de Sade.”

“What? Who…?” I whirled around in confusion, my heart slamming against my ribs. The voice had been close, right next to my ear. Yet the room was empty, unchanged. The same warped walls, the same thread-bare carpet, the same rusty stains on the ceiling. The rumpled bed where I’d had my tantrum. The almost-empty glass on the dresser.

Ah, the liquor. I must be more drunk than I thought. I turned back to the mirror, searching my face for signs of intoxication, and yelped as something, someone, pinched my nipples.

“Hey! That hurts.” Indignation overwhelmed fear.

“It does, at first. But afterwards, it changes, doesn’t it? Afterwards, it feels quite delicious.” I stared at my image, mouth hanging stupidly open, as invisible hands caressed my breasts. Strong hands, gentle hands, hands that seemed to know exactly how to make me shiver with delight. “That’s what most people don’t understand about pain. It’s the gateway to the most exquisite pleasure.”

The voice was a melodious baritone, rich, deep, almost hypnotic. “You fear the pain, but that’s foolish. You must surrender to the pain. Let it move through you. Let it wash away your doubts and your inhibitions. Let it open you to ecstasy.”

Firm, unseen lips nibbled at my neck. A warm, wet tongue traced the curve from below my ear to my exposed shoulder, then down to the hollow at my throat. With each touch, extravagant new species of pleasure bloomed in my sex. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, savoring the delicate caresses and the amazing sensations that they triggered.

Suddenly something sharp pierced the rounded flesh of my shoulder. I screamed, surprise heightening the agony that gripped me, and tore myself away from the grasp of the unseen intruder.

My reflection made me gasp in horror and wonder.  Droplets of blood oozed from several wounds on my shoulder, wounds arranged in the distinctive semi-circular shape of a bite.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1665-rendezvous/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DJZ93M23

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DJZ93M23

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1632465

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rendezvous-lisabet-sarai/1017487787?ean=2940167735668

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6736960598

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/220378140-rendezvous

Add on Bookbub – https://www.bookbub.com/books/rendezvous-by-lisabet-sarai

BDSM Paranormal Romance

11,600 words, 47 pages

Smashwords and Amazon KDP

ISBN (Smashwords): 9798224035007

ASIN: ‎‎B0DJZ93M23‎

Hashtags/Keywords

#Halloween #HauntedMotel #Ghost #Dominance #Submission #Bondage #Costume #ParanormalRomance #EroticRomance

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

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Vampires

Sharing a book written by my alter ego for Halloween…..

I’ve never liked vampires. Not Count Dracula, not all the bloody B movies of my generation, not even Barnabas Collins (tho I confess I did love the drama of his show). When Stephanie Meyer brought the vampire back to life in her Twilight series, I never picked up one of her books. (Okay, okay, I saw the movies.) But in either medium, I’m not really in the “yes, sparkle” or “no, sparkle” camp.

But then about ten years ago, I went with some of my friends to a new class that studied energy from an Eastern perspective. We learned about auras and personal energy fields and chakras and self-healing. As a person who routinely thinks from inside my head instead of on a “touchy-feely” basis, this was a long, hard education for me, but I eventually understood it.

I also came to understand how others can drain your energy, in a very toxic way. You know, the person who calls at all hours of the day and night, just to whine about the terribles of their life, though they never take your advice and never change the way they do anything. They suck the life from you.

*idea*

And that’s how I came around to the concept that vampires come in alternate flavors besides blood-red cherry and rainbow sherbet. Once I reached that far, I moved on to the possibility of psychic vampires. These are vampires that steal energy, not blood, but a life force nonetheless.  Combining that with my background as a journalist and a few hunky doctors, LOVE ME, KISS ME, KILL ME was born. I may still shy away from vampires as a rule, but at least in this form, we can co-exist.

BLURB:

Running away isn’t necessarily the answer.

In her mad rush to escape a failed marriage, Sara Woods takes the first job available and lands in the middle of a mystery. Her first assignment as a news reporter for the Ralston Courier is the investigation of a string of deaths, all young women, all her age.

She becomes a patient at the Goldstone Clinic, a local mecca of healing, to deal with chronic pain from her past. But all is not as it seems at the Goldstone, its doctors and nurses are all the picture of perfect beauty and health. Patients at the clinic first seem to get better, then they deteriorate. Sara enlists the help of Dr. Rick Paulsen, who teaches her how to access her internal power, skills she never knew she had, revealing secrets from her past. Police officer Brendon Zale also takes an interest in Sara, stalking her, watching her every move, and he won’t leave her alone.

As she digs deeper into the story, and more young women die without explanation, she tries to choose allies wisely, but not until the last confrontation does she discover the identity of her true enemy.

By then, it’s too late.

EXCERPT:

When the doctor didn’t answer my last question, I asked again. “Why haven’t you gone to the police?”
“You don’t understand. The police won’t be any help in this matter.”

“They’re investigating her death—”

 “They’re not investigating her death! They’re just going through the motions until everyone forgets about her and they can toss her file in a cabinet, never to be seen again!” He slapped his fork onto the table, a flush of anger suffusing his face, all the way to the tips of his ears. “Just like the others.”

I glanced quickly around to see if his eruption had been noticed, but Athena was, thankfully, out of the room. “What others?” I demanded. “Those three other women? The same people have killed all of them? And no one’s noticed except you?”

“No one will. No one will even care.” He leaned closer, spoke more softly. “They’re careful who they choose. Victims with no close family. Women who won’t be missed.”

“That Gina had a baby. There must have been someone—”

“Her ex had filed papers to get custody. Once she was dead, he didn’t have a worry in the world. He didn’t care, as long as she was out of his way. It was the same with the others. Lily’s fiancé had broken it off with her, and she was just hiding here with her aunt, letting her ballet practice become her life. Marta was a loner, a waitress who lived by herself. Sandy was a new teacher, she’d just started at the district, and she was so proud of her class.” His voice broke with emotion, and he waved away the waiter, who was heading in our direction with a pitcher of ice water.

“You treated them all?” I asked.

“At one time or other. I could sense something not right about them, something in their chemistry, something in their…energy, it just wasn’t right.”

Energy? That was the second time in two days I’d heard someone talk about a person’s energy. Surely he didn’t mean… “So who’s ‘they’? These mysterious bad guys?”

It was almost a whisper. “The Goldstone Clinic.”

A book from Hydra Publications! Learn more at:  http://lyndialexander.wordpress.com/love-me-kiss-me-kill-me/

BUY LINKS:

Amazon.com   http://www.amazon.com/Love-Me-Kiss-Kill-ebook/dp/B008WCZIZK/ref=sr_1_10?ie=UTF8&qid=1344729827&sr=8-10&keywords=Lyndi+Alexander

Barnes and Noble.com  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-me-kiss-me-kill-me-lyndi-alexander/1112464898?ean=2940014864022