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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 

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

Things I do when I should be writing…

Lately, I confess I’ve fallen into a hole of creating pictures of characters from my stories with AI. Granted, I am in a tenuous position with this confession, because I am obviously not happy that some authors are creating whole books with AI that are now in competition with my own. But I will say that there are no competitions in play here–I already have a cover for the book and won’t use these pictures commercially, other than to occasionally bring attention to my little twaddles.

For example, in TENDER MISDEMEANORS, a romantic suspense from The Wild Rose Press, my heroine is an officer with the Bureau of Land Management, which gets her into all sorts of trouble with the less-than-law-abiding characters in the story. But–fun fact–she is a full time RVer, living in an RV with her pet iguana at the edge of a national park in Montana. Here’s the story the book tells:

Caryn Orlane has law enforcement in her blood; her father was a cop, and his father, too. She’s a federal agent in northwest Montana, protecting the old forests and keeping the peace.

Levi Bradshaw also believes in protecting the forests, but has a very different MO. He’s the leader of a group of eco-warriors, determined to save the trees of the Bitterroot by legal—and illegal—means.

When they meet in the woods at gunpoint, their encounter ignites a spark of interest, despite operating on opposite sides of the law. When their worlds turn on them, they only grow closer. If they don’t work together, can either survive?

( For more info– book trailer here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HlVFvMZw0a0&t=63s and general links, etc. here: https://alana-lorens.com/tender-misdemeanors/)

While I did like seeing Caryn as her weekend self, I couldn’t forget she is also all business. So here she is then:

Previously I’d done a feature post on Levi Bradshaw, her nemesis-turned-lover, so don’t think I’m being unfair! Check it out: https://alana-lorens.com/2023/04/12/meet-levi-bradshaw-from-tender-misdemeanors/

Okay–back to writing now. I hope. 🙂

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

Reviews coming in–do you have your copy yet?

CRUEL CHARADE has been out one whole week, and the five-star reviews are piling up! Check out some of these:

5.0 out of 5 stars Page-turner with a Great Twist Reviewed in the United States on July 12, 2024

Bet

If you like a good legal thriller with an engaging protagonist, you will enjoy Cruel Charade. In this latest offering in the lady lawyer series by Alana Lorens, Bettina Lenard wakes up in a Florida swamp and tries to figure out how she got there and who wants her dead. Unfortunately, there are many possibilities. It could be one of several former clients, a drug kingpin she has crossed, or maybe her ex-husband.

This book is fun, but it’s instructive, too. In addition to the mystery, Cruel Charade is also an accurate description of the journey to diagnosis for a woman with an autoimmune disease, from her husband assuming she is faking pain to cover a drinking problem, to a line of doctors who have no clue how to help her and little interest in trying. The reader has sympathy for Bet but doesn’t pity her. She is a strong, capable woman dealing with an illness that she doesn’t let define her.

The story skips around in time, which can be a bit confusing at first, but stick with it because you will get into the rhythm as you read on. Cruel Charade is a page-turner with a great twist. It’s the perfect book for a weekend at the beach or a me-time treat.

Reviewed in the United States on July 10, 2024

The Everglades

CRUEL CHARADE by Alana Lorens is exciting with plot twists and turns that will keep you reading through the night. The story revolves around the murder attempt of attorney Bet Lenard who has lost everything in a bitter divorce. She finds comfort with her dearest friend and a new therapist. Written by juxtaposing the past with the present is intriguing and makes you really think when putting the story line together. It boils down to, can Bet figure out who tried to kill her before they try again? A great read all the way to the unique and surprising end. I highly recommend this book.


July 15, 2024

The doctor

There is a lot going on in this story. It’s all about Bet Lenard, and the story is in her POV, but it goes back and forth from present time to her past so you get all the reasons behind what’s happening in the back story. Bet is nearly killed in the Everglades in a car fire. She barely gets back from that before other things start happening. As a criminal lawyer, she’s often worked with dangerous people, but she’s not sure who is doing this to her—and there are a lot of possibilities, including her ex-husband.

There’s enough going on in this story that you definitely will not get bored – right up to the last page! Just when you think everything is solved, you turn the page and… it’s not! Nicely done. The only thing that kept me from giving this five stars was the back-and-forth in past/present. Not one of my favorite types of writing, but overall, the story is excellent.

Recommended.

June 29, 2024

The husband

I really enjoyed my review copy of Cruel Charade, a crime thriller by Alana Lorens. The story begins when Miami attorney Bettina (Bet) Lenard, wakes up in a spectacular WTF situation. Someone is out to kill Bet and, given the criminal element she and her not-so-ethical attorney ex-husband have represented over the years, that would-be killer could be anyone. Bet has to stay one step ahead of the killer’s attacks; while battling debilitating pain from an undiagnosable illness, keeping her estranged kids safe, and eluding a mob boss intent on forcing her to work for him. This unusual protagonist is one reason Cruel Charade kept me interested. Bet is a flawed person who doesn’t have all the answers, but she’s doing her best to navigate personal relationships while solving the case. I really loved Bet’s deadpan sense of humor, fashion sense, and foodie sensibilities. I enjoyed the inventive way she got herself out of jams. Cruel Charade is an engaging story with characters that feel real, in a setting that came alive in a sensory way (I really want to try that Cuban coffee). The action kept me hooked. The end satisfied and left me smiling.

  Miami attorney Bet Lenard has had a rough year. She’s battling an unknown illness that drives her to drink to cope with her pain. Her lawyer husband has divorced her and taken the best part of their business, their home and their children.

On the night of May 16, 1996, Bet finds herself in the Everglades in the middle of the night, drugged, lost and next to a burned car with a dead body in it. Hoping she’s hit bottom, Bet must drag herself out of her living hell and discover who tried to kill her. Was it her ex-husband, not satisfied with stealing everything that mattered? An angry client, unhappy with the outcome of their case? Her best friend’s husband, livid that Bet’s restraining order kicked him out of her life forever? Police officers fuming that Bet helped a client convict a dirty cop who was their friend? She has no idea.

As she tries to sort out the motives behind her would-be killer, even more suspects come to light. The only thing keeping Bet sane is her relationship with her therapist, who encourages her to struggle and survive, despite everything that’s gone wrong. How will Bet discover the truth and bring her enemy to justice before they strike again and, this time, succeed?

What are you waiting for? Get your copy here:

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A broken family and intrigue on the hot, deadly streets of 1996 Miami #MFRWHooks

Yes, today’s the day! CRUEL CHARADE is out from The Wild Rose Press– and its five-stars future looks good. Do you have your copy yet?

May 13, 1995

One year before The Incident

Bettina stumbled out the side door of the Barracuda Taphouse, straining to focus fuzzy eyes. Leaning against the side of the building, she muttered to herself.

I only took my attention off that pina colada for a minute. Someone dosed it. I’ve got to get straight. Now. 

But she couldn’t. Her knees threatened to mutiny and drop her on the pavement. Music pulsed through the wall behind her. She started to spin out of control.

Five things. “Street lights. Blue Lexus. Palm trees.

Lady with a purse. Man with a purse.” Should it bother me that his is nicer?

She straightened her back against the bricks, her fingers scrabbling in the grooves for a handhold. Her eyes closed and the spinning got worse. She forced them open again.

Four things. “Bricks. Space between bricks.” She tapped her expensive shoe on the ground. “Sidewalk.” She didn’t dare let go to touch anything else. Her arm rubbed against hard plastic discs down her side. “Midnight blue sequins.” Her new blouse that screamed take me home to bed, stranger. 

Three things. “Um…traffic. Drums. Horns beeping.”

Was her breathing easier? She thought so.

Two things. “Cigarette smoke.” She cast an envious glance at the couple standing half a block up with cancer sticks in hand. “Diesel fuel.”

One thing. She couldn’t taste anything at first. Whatever was in her system had taken over. Then bile swirled in her stomach and rose to the back of her throat. Burning, it made its way out as she vomited into a potted plant.

Now isn’t that a lovely picture. Up-and-coming criminal defense attorney ralphing al fresco like a common street drunk.

She wiped her mouth and faced the wall, drooping against it, one hand propping her up.

The door she’d come out of flew open. “Bet? Oh my God, what are you doing?” Mela grabbed her arm. “Are you all right?”

“Nope,” Bet replied. “I surely am not. Someone dosed me. I think it was that suave Nicaraguan.” Her stomach roiled and she threw up again. 

“The one with the haircut? You think so?” Mela rubbed Bet’s back. “Come on, let’s get out of here before a Herald reporter shows up. That’s all you need is for Rich to have proof you’re unfit.”

Bet reared upward with a scowl. “I’m not unfit. I don’t have the children in my custody, do I? He won that round, damn it.” 

What the story’s about:   Miami attorney Bet Lenard has had a rough year. She’s battling an unknown illness that drives her to drink to cope with her pain. Her lawyer husband has divorced her and taken the best part of their business, their home and their children.

On the night of May 16, 1996, Bet finds herself in the Everglades in the middle of the night, drugged, lost and next to a burned car with a dead body in it. Hoping she’s hit bottom, Bet must drag herself out of her living hell and discover who tried to kill her. Was it her ex-husband, not satisfied with stealing everything that mattered? An angry client, unhappy with the outcome of their case? Her best friend’s husband, livid that Bet’s restraining order kicked him out of her life forever? Police officers fuming that Bet helped a client convict a dirty cop who was their friend? She has no idea.

As she tries to sort out the motives behind her would-be killer, even more suspects come to light. The only thing keeping Bet sane is her relationship with her therapist, who encourages her to struggle and survive, despite everything that’s gone wrong. How will Bet discover the truth and bring her enemy to justice before they strike again and, this time, succeed?

Where you can get it:

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IndieBound
Barnes & Noble
Kobo
Google Books
ITunes

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You’ll like it–I promise!

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In the Crosshairs: The Body on Leffis Key

PLEASE WELCOME MY GUEST M.S SPENCER!!

Someone is killing people with a crossbow, but what connects the murders is a mystery, and only a birder and the aide to a dead Senator can find the answers.

Intro

I grew up in the DC suburbs and came back as a young adult to work in the US Senate at a time of great upheaval (1980s). The Washington of my youth was genteel, southern, sleepy, and dull. Members of Congress spent most of their time in their districts. There were no restaurants to speak of—the only parties were at diplomats’ residences. There was a single theatre—the National. JFK allegedly quipped that Washington was a city of northern charm and southern efficiency.

By the 1980s it had changed dramatically (I won’t even talk about the depths it’s risen to today). Perhaps because of the advent of television, politics rather than diplomacy now rule the social life “inside-the-Beltway.” There are hundreds of expense-account restaurants and massive theatres. The celebrities aren’t ambassadors and foreign princes, but pundits, “influencers,” and Hollywoodites.

In the excerpt below the widow of a prominent US Senator confesses to an adulterous affair with a high-powered global investor. This is not uncommon, but in this case there’s murder involved.

OUR STORY:

Palmer Lind, recovering from the sudden death of her husband, embarks on a bird-watching trek to the Gulf Coast of Florida. One hot day on Leffis Key she comes upon—not the life bird she was hoping for—but a floating corpse. The handsome beach bum who appears on the scene at the same time seems to have even more secrets than the dead man.

His story begins to unravel as the pair search for answers to a growing pile of dead bodies. Spies, radical environmentalists, and wealthy businessmen circle around each other in a complex dance. Which one is lying? What do a seemingly random group of individuals have in common, other than being targeted by a crossbow?

In the Crosshairs: The Body on Leffis Key

The Wild Rose Press, May 27, 2024

Mystery, Suspense

89,710 words; 392 pp.

Excerpt: Joanna Confesses

Joanna whirled around and advanced toward Palmer, her cheeks flaming and her teeth bared.

Palmer fell back a step. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me, you…you floozy. Keep your smutty hands off Wilfred!”

Palmer was too astonished to respond, but the thought gamboled through her head that jealous rage was hardly a suitable look for a bereaved widow. She was weighing options for escape when Joanna toppled into a chair.

“Oh Miss Lind, I’m so sorry. You must think I’m a crazy person. My emotions are all over the place.” To prove it, she burst into tears.

Palmer gave her a box of tissues and went for a glass of water. When she returned, Joanna had regained her composure. “Thank you.” She sniffed. “I suppose I should explain my behavior.”

That would be nice. “If you like.”

“You see, Atticus and I had what you’d call a political marriage. We did love each other in the beginning, but after a few years, the unabating hostility from my relatives…” She broke off and sipped the water. “My family has lived in Mobile, Alabama, for over two hundred years. We’ve always been Democrats…well, for as long as there’s been a Democrat party, that is. Atticus was not only from the Midwest”—she said it with a moue of distaste—“but he was a Republican. Two colossal strikes against him in the view of my grandmother Rose, the matriarch of the clan. She turned everyone against him, shunned him. At least, until he was elected senator.” She gave a resentful snort. “Even then they barely acknowledged him at family gatherings. I got tired of defending him all the time, and we drifted apart, but the demands of the job meant we had to pretend we were the idyllic power couple.”

That’s how Carson described them. Palmer had trouble feeling sorry for her but could hardly interrupt the flow. “Go on.”

“Last year we were at Davos—that’s an annual economic forum in Switzerland. Everybody who’s anybody in the financial and political worlds goes. Atticus was giving an interview to Forbes, and I took to the slopes for an afternoon’s skiing.”

The lives of the rich and famous…

“I was on my last run and visibility was poor. I took a spill, and suddenly Wilfred appeared out of the gloom. He helped me up and escorted me back to the lodge. We had tea together and…and one thing led to another.” She raised damp eyes to Palmer. “Do you hate me?”

“Me? Why would I hate you? It’s nothing to do with me.”

“Even though I’m a rival for his affections?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“He came here to see you, didn’t he? Why would he do that unless he was attracted to you?” She produced a tiny hiccup. “He’s left me, you see.”

Buy Links:

In the Crosshairs: the Body on Leffis Key

Books2Read: https://books2read.com/IntheCrosshairs

Wild Rose Press: https://wildrosepress.com/product/in-the-crosshairs-the-body-on-leffis-key/

I Tunes: https://books.apple.com/us/book/in-the-crosshairs-the-body-on-leffis-key/id6479648097

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Crosshairs-Body-Leffis-Key-ebook/dp/B0CYHKJJ5C

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/in-the-crosshairs-m-s-spencer/1145026462?ean=2940185979617

About the Author:

Librarian, anthropologist, research assistant, Congressional aide, speechwriter, nonprofit director—M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents and holds degrees in Anthropology, Middle East Studies, and Library Science. She has published seventeen mystery or romantic suspense novels. She has two children, an exuberant granddaughter, and currently divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

Contacts:

Blog: https://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com

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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

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

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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