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When Darkness Comes Out To Play by Lisabet Sarai

thingsthatgohump300x200I’m thrilled to be here at K.D. Grace’s blog, helping her to celebrate Halloween and the relaunch of her Lakeland Witches trilogy.

When I was a child, I enjoyed All Hallow’s Eve more for the costumes than the candy. I loved becoming someone else – a gypsy, a gargoyle, a princess, a pirate – leaving my shy, awkward, bookish self behind for a few marvelous hours of night-time adventure. In our family, we scorned store-bought attire, sometimes working on our Halloween disguises for weeks before the big night. And on November 1st, as my brother and I tallied our sweet haul, we were already discussing who we’d be next year.

As I reached adulthood, Halloween for me became associated with sex. Okay, I’ll admit that during my twenties, sex colored pretty much everything in my life, but Halloween always seemed a particularly auspicious time for erotic encounters. The costume possibilities expanded to include slinky vamps and cat-women, scantily-attired genies and voluptuous she-demons. Halloween parties partook of some of the abandon of a Carnival masked ball. Leaving your mundane self behind for the night, you could also relinquish your inhibitions. Magic was afoot, kindling shadowy desire and promising fiery consummation.

What’s the essence of All Hallow’s Eve? It’s the night when darkness comes out to play. Each of us has a dark side, no matter how much we might like to pretend we don’t. Halloween calls to that side of our nature, luring it from the depths where we keep it hidden, tempting us to release it and revel in the chaos it might bring.

We externalize the darkness as ghouls and werewolves, specters and vampires. We find them fascinating, thrilling, not recognizing them as mirrors of our own lusts – for violence, for power, for pleasure. On Halloween, though, we’re moved to welcome darkness, at least for a time, to stop acting as though we’re one hundred percent civilized – to let our inner beasts howl.

Necessary MadnessI’ve played with darkness a bit in my erotic fiction. In my M/M paranormal Necessary Madness, my sorcerer-villain tries to steal my hero’s talent for prescience in a ritual of sex and blood, where he’ll excise his victim’s heart just as they both climax. In Rendezvous, the ghost of a nineteen fifties Lothario haunts the run-down motel room where he used to bring his conquests. Invisible and insubstantial, he still manages to teach the young woman stranded there about the pleasures to be found in pain. In The Eyes of Bast (coming from Totally Bound next March), my heroine Shana finds her own powers trying to save her cat-shifter lover from the vindictive witch who cursed him.

Although my M/M/F vampire ménage Fire in the Blood is set in sunny Jamaica, it has a shadowy tone that seems appropriate for Halloween. One reviewer called it “edgy, dark and smoking hot”. Anyway, I thought I’d share a bit from that tale to whet your appetite for the Halloween revels that will soon be here.

Oh, and if you leave a comment with your email, I’ll enter you in a drawing for a copy of the book.

 

Fire In The BloodIn the heart of darkness, eternal passion burns.

Maddy and Troy hope that a care-free vacation in tropical Jamaica will re-ignite the passion in their five-year relationship. On a scenic mountain trail, Maddy’s horse bolts and carries her deep into the jungle. Injured and lost, she is saved by a seductive giant of a man whose mere presence kindles unbearable lust. By the time she understands his dark nature, it is far to late for her to escape.

Bitter and alone, Etienne de Rémorcy haunts the forest around the ruined plantation of Fin d’Espoir. He has sworn to never again taste human blood, but when slender, raven-haired Madeleine begs him to take her, he cannot resist.

Troy is hugely relieved when Maddy makes her way back to their hotel after her ordeal in the mountains, but he finds her greatly changed—fiercely passionate in bed, restless and disturbed at other times. The tall, elegant stranger he meets on the beach hold the key to her transformation, and soon has seduced Troy as well. Even Etienne’s most potent magic can’t extinguish the fire in Troy’s and Madeleine’s blood.

 

Watch the trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzVRy4LTQe0

 

Excerpt

Etienne dragged his belt from the loops of his dungarees. “Give me your hands,” he ordered. Madeleine held them out, palms turned upward in supplication. “I plan to bind you to ensure that you cannot escape me once we have begun. I will give you one more chance. Do you still want this?”

Maddy shivered, imagining herself restrained on the rough bed, powerless and at his mercy. Lust and fear warred in her body. Liquid dripped from her pussy, soaking the satiny robe bunched under her buttocks. She and Troy had played at bondage, silk scarves and velvet blindfolds. This was real.

She sought Etienne’s eyes, seeking reassurance. Fire flickered in the depths of those dark pools. His face was a beautiful mask that offered no solace. He gripped the belt in both hands, twisting as if testing it. “Et bien, Madeleine?”

She wanted it. She could not pretend otherwise. She wanted him, on any terms, wanted whatever he would do to her. Nothing mattered, not his terrifying strength, not his grim warnings, not the feeble image of Troy awaiting her back at the hotel. She reached for the bonds he offered. “Take me,” she whispered.

In an instant, he had slipped the end of the belt through the buckle and caught her wrists in the resulting loop. She felt the leather begin to bite into her skin as he pulled her arms above her head and a further tightness as he secured the other end to the metal bedstead. She tugged at the restraints, verifying the stark fact she could not, in fact, work herself free. Terror and arousal swept through her in alternating waves.

Her heart slammed against ribs. Her nipples and her clit throbbed with her pulse. Without being told, she spread her damp thighs. An oceany scent rose from her exposed pussy.

He shrugged off his vest and pushed his trousers down over his hips. Naked, he was even more formidable, his ebony thighs corded with muscle, his sculpted chest and flat belly gleaming like black marble. His erect cock sprang from the wiry thicket of his groin, on the same gigantic scale as the rest of his massive body.

The shaft looked thick as her wrist. Veins meandered along its endless dark length like creepers on a tree branch. The cap was dusky pink, taut, polished flesh that glistened with moisture.

Maddy moaned at the mere thought of that cock invading her. Saliva gathered in her mouth. “Etienne…” she pleaded, splaying her legs wider in lewd invitation. “Please…”

“Little harlot! Have you no shame?” Even as he chided her, however, the black giant climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between her thighs.

She expected ferocity, his power unleashed. She imagined him forcing that awe-inspiring cock deep into her body. Instead, he bent his head and flicked his tongue along the sensitive skin on the inside of her knee.

“Ah…” Pleasure rippled through her, converging on her pussy. He licked again, moving upward, painting her with his cool saliva. She squirmed under his mouth, wanting to feel those thick lips on her aching clit. Gradually, he came closer to her centre, yet still he lingered on her thighs, kissing, nibbling, lapping up the juices that spilled from her hungry, empty sex. She arched up, pushing her pelvis towards him. Without effort, without removing his mouth, he forced her back onto the bed.

He rasped his tongue over the gash she’d received during her wild ride through the forest. Pain sliced into her cocoon of pleasure. The rum had probably disinfected the cut, but her bath had prevented it from clotting. His touch made it throb. When he licked again, the pain intensified.

“Ow! What are you doing?” Etienne ignored her. It felt as though he was probing the wound with his tongue, opening it further. “Wait! Don’t…”

Without warning, there was a hand dabbling in the moist folds at the entrance to her sex. A bolt of pleasure seared her. A finger rocked her clit back and forth, making her shudder and moan. Her lust flooded back, washing away the pain. She felt an odd pulling sensation at the wound site, and her nipples responded, as though he were sucking on those sensitive nubs instead of her thigh. He pushed several fingers deep into her pussy. She clenched around him. Delight rippled out to her extremities as the pull of his mouth intensified. Now she felt the suction in her clit as well as her breasts. Her whole body trembled, balanced on the edge of release.

Etienne plunged what felt like his whole hand into her depths. Something sharp tore into the flesh of her thigh. Her climax hit her, as sudden as a breaking storm, thundering through her, scattering every thought in its wake.

Before she could recover, he was on top of her, his cock nudging against her still-quaking opening, his face inches from hers. His eyes glowed with a fierce, wild light. His lips stretched wide in a grimace of triumph, exposing the pointed teeth of an animal. Blood smeared those lips—her blood. Its rusty scent mingled with his aura of roses. She shuddered, even as her pussy wept tears of new desire.

“Do you still want me, cherie?” he growled. “Now that you know what I am?” He ground his rock-hard erection against the softness at her centre, striking sparks that burned away her fear.

“Yes,” she had time to whisper, before he fastened his gore-stained lips on hers.

 

RendezvousAbout 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 – more than fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.

Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre.  She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.

For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com). To get updates on her releases, contests and other news, join Lisabet’s List (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lisabets_list).

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GIVEAWAY

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Lisabet Sarai Shares The Ingredients of Bliss

I’m very happy to welcome back one of my very favourite guest bloggers and one awesome story-teller, the lovely Lisabet Sarai! I honoured to launch the blog tour for her exciting new novel, The Ingredients of Bliss. There’s fun, there’s a sizzling excerpt, there’s a totally amazing giveaway and of course, links so you can get your own must-have copy of The Ingredients of Blisse!  

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Details for how you can enter the fabulous giveaway are right after the x-rated excerpt

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Lisabet Sarai Bliss tour cover image 2The Ingredients of Bliss: From Short Story to Novel

The characters in The Ingredients of Bliss made their first appearance in my short story Her Secret Ingredient. At the time, I had no thoughts of following that story with a novel-length sequel. Totally Bound had contacted me and asked if I’d like to contribute to their new What’s Her Secret imprint. The concept sounded intriguing – a series where each heroine keeps something hidden from the other characters, until she’s forced to reveal it.

As I pondered the possibilities, the story started to take shape in my mind. Mei Lee “Emily” Wong is a French-trained chef from Hong Kong who is invited to America to appear on a cooking show with the famous Gallic foodie, Etienne Duvalier. A culinary traditionalist, Etienne scorns Emily’s more creative approach to cooking. To win him to her side, she spikes a test dish with an ancient Chinese aphrodisiac. However, the nerdy producer Harry Sanborne samples the adulterated profiteroles before she has a chance to offer them to Etienne, and reacts with delightful passion. Though she’s drawn to Harry, the ambitious Chinese gal resolves to try again, with disastrous results. When Etienne consumes the aphrodisiac, she finds him on his knees, begging to be sexually dominated – on national television! Harry saves the day and sweeps Emily the rest of the way off her feet. In the final chapter of the book (exclusive to the VIP edition available directly from Totally Bound), Harry reveals his interest in BDSM and Emily discovers, much to her surprise, that she has a strong submissive streak – at least when Harry is topping her.

I was pretty happy with Her Secret Ingredient. It’s light and funny and sexy. However, I thought I was done with Emily, Harry and Etienne. Then the publisher asked if I could write a follow-up novel.

I was floored at first. I mean, I didn’t know these characters all that well. How deeply can you explore someone in 15K? Still, I like to make people happy, especially my publishers, so I put on my thinking cap. My first breakthrough was the notion of setting the novel in France. In 2013 I spent two weeks touring that fabulous country, so I thought maybe Emily, Harry and Etienne might follow in my footsteps.

With two males and one female, a ménage seemed inevitable. However, Harry is a Dom and Etienne has masochistic tendencies. How was I going to work that? And whom does Emily really want? The suave, seductive Frenchman, or the virile, sexually-creative American? Or both? And (aside from love scenes and the travel log), what was I going to do with the requisite 60,000 words?

The answers came to me gradually. I came to know my characters more intimately. I realized that Emily was as confused and uncertain about the situation with her two lovers as I was. So I let her work it out, giving the plot a radical twist that brought her true feelings into stronger relief.

And now? I think could write another novel about Emily, Harry and Etienne. Will I? That all depends on the reception I get to The Ingredients of Bliss!

 

Blurb for The Ingredients of Bliss:

One sexy French chef. One kinky American TV producer. One ambitious Chinese gal who thinks she wants them both. The ingredients of bliss? Or a recipe for disaster?

Accomplished cook Mei Lee “Emily” Wong knows exactly what she wants—her own show on the Tastes of France food channel. But life is full of complications. First, her deceptively nerdy producer, Harry Sanborne, initiates Emily into the delights of submission. Then her boss, legendary chef Etienne Duvalier, begs her to dominate him. Emily just can’t resist—especially when Harry orders her to explore her inner mistress. Suave and sexy Etienne will do whatever she asks—in the bedroom if not in the kitchen. And Harry, her lovingly diabolical Dom, adores pushing Emily’s limits.

When the network sends the trio to France to shoot a series of cooking shows on location, Emily knows her career is on the upswing. Her plans fall apart in Marseille as a Hong Kong drug syndicate kidnaps both Etienne and Harry. The Iron Hammer Triad mistakes Etienne for notorious gangster Jean Le Requin, who has stolen their drug shipment, worth millions. Emily realizes she must find the real Le Requin, retrieve the purloined dope, and bargain it for Harry’s and Etienne’s lives. The secret she’s been keeping from Harry might prove useful. Still, what chance does one woman whose knife skills are limited to chopping vegetables, have against the ruthless cruelty of two criminal organizations?


Lisabet Sarai Bliss tourX-Rated Excerpt: The Ingredients of Bliss by Lisabet Sarai

“What’s eating you, Em?”

Harry looked up from one of his favorite positions—crouched between my spread legs—and searched my face. The usual mischief gleamed in his cinnamon-brown eyes—a bit unfocused without his glasses—but his lush mouth showed no trace of a grin.

“Shouldn’t that be who, rather than what?” My laugh sounded forced, even to my own ears. It turned to a squeal as he swept his tongue along the length of my cleft, ending with a neat flick to my clit.

“I’m serious. Something’s bothering you.”

Sometimes his intuition scared me. “It’s nothing, really.” How did this guy know me so well, after a mere three months?

“Tell me!”

“Ow!” He’d pinched the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh.

“Do I have to beat a confession out of you—again?”

His casual reference was enough to send my mind spinning back to that wild night when he’d first revealed his kinky streak. Tied to the iron railing at the look-out atop Twin Peaks, my panties around my ankles and my dress bunched up around my waist, I’d received my first searing lesson in submission.

Unruly hair fell into his eyes, making him look younger, and rougher, too—a bit like Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire. I wanted to brush those black locks off his brow, to touch him, to soothe and reassure him—to feel his lovely muscles shift under the tanned skin of his broad shoulders. Bound hand and foot to the bed frame, all I could do was writhe and yelp as he burrowed his face in my pussy, while raking my thighs with his fingernails.

Pain and pleasure. Pleasure and pain. Wasn’t there a time when I could tell the difference?

Whatever he was doing, I liked it. I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t.

 

Blog Tour Prizes

First prize: $30 gift certificate to Sur La Table (http://www.surlatable.com)

Second prize: $20 gift certificate to Whole Foods Market (http://www.wholefoodsmarket.com)
Third prize: Three-pack of ebooks from my back list, including a copy of Her Secret Ingredient, the prequel to The Ingredients of Bliss.

I’ll also be giving a PDF copy of my own original cookbook, Recipes from an International Kitchen, to everyone who leaves a comment. AND I have a bonus $10 Totally Bound gift certificate for the tour host who gets the most reader comments.

To enter, simply leave a comment that includes your email address. You can enter once for each spot in the tour. For the full tour schedule, go to:

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2014/08/ingredients-of-bliss-blog-tour-starts.html

 


Lisabet Sarai Bliss tour 1The Ingredients of Bliss
By Lisabet Sarai

Contemporary BDSM ménage

Totally Bound, 2014

Get your copy today!

The special VIP edition of The Ingredients of Bliss is now available from Totally Bound. This version contains a sizzling bonus chapter not available from other retailers. Totally Bound has the most advanced book selling site of any independent publisher on the web, with new One-Click ordering and direct delivery to all e-reader platforms. 

 

About Lisabet:

I started both writing and cooking at an early age, and I’ve continued to indulge both passions as I’ve matured. Usually I’m an improvisational cook; I’m not all that fond of following recipes, and when I do, I almost always introduce my own variations. My philosophy tends to be the more spice, the better.

You could say the same about my writing. Since the release of my debut novel Raw Silk in 1999, I’ve published lots of erotica and erotic romance in almost every sub-genre– more than fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. My gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.

I have more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by my chosen genre. Widely traveled but still with a long bucket list of places to go, I currently live in Southeast Asia with my indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where I pursue an alternative career that is completely unrelated to my creative writing.

 

Find Lisabet here:

Website: http://www.lisabetsarai.com

Blog: http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

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

Amazon page: https://www.amazon.com/author/lisabetsarai

 

 

 

Channeling the Cat by Lisabet Sarai

The Eyes Of BastIt’s almost a joke – the common association between authors and cats. I haven’t done a systematic survey, but I would estimate that at least 75% of the authors I hosts as blog guests mention feline companions in their bios. I’m no exception. I currently have two cats who traveled with us from the United States to southeast Asia ten years ago, and who have settled in quite comfortably.

Of course, many famous writers were renowned for their close relationships with their felines.  Colette, Papa Hemingway, Jean-Paul Satre, Ray Bradbury… the list goes on and on.  The inspiration for my erotic writing career, Portia da Costa, is a huge cat lover – that’s one of the things that forged a bond between us.

Many explanations have been offered for the feline-author affinity. A cat doesn’t need to be walked, so we can spend our time at our desks as opposed to trucking around on the street scooping up their business. Cats are mysterious creatures with many layers of personality – rather like effective characters. Cats have an elegance and precision of movement we writers might use as a model for our prose. Many authors have cited their felines as sources of inspiration. Noted Canadian writer Robertson Davies once said “Authors like cats because they are such quiet, lovable, wise creatures, and cats like authors for the same reason.”

The other day, I was suddenly struck by a new theory. I was thinking about the fact that so many authors report hearing “voices”. “I just listen to my characters, and write down what they say,” one of my guests commented. Writing sometimes feels like something driven from outside, beyond our conscious control. Well, what if that’s true?

What if it’s not our characters who are dictating the story? What if it’s our cats?

Ridiculous, right? But Mr. Toes sits behind my monitor most days I’m writing. He pretends to be asleep, but if I should get up for a bathroom break or a drink of water, he stirs and gives me a look, as it to say, “Where are you going? The story’s not done yet!”

I grew up with cats. I grew up writing fiction. When I went off to college and then grad school, I left the felines behind, and although I wrote lots of poetry during that period, I didn’t pen a single story. Then I met my husband, a confirmed ailurophile, and filled my life with felines once more. Next thing you know, I was a published author.

Ever tried to write when your cat was sick? Tough to concentrate on the tale, isn’t it?

And wouldn’t this explain why our characters are larger than life? Why they have so much vitality, such powerful passions, such intense adventures? How could a mere human imagine such creatures? Cats, though – they have superhuman abilities. Just ask them.

Of course to really test this, we’d all have to get rid of our felines and then see if we could still write.

That might be informative. It might restore our self-respect. But it’s simply too painful to contemplate.

If I’m channeling my cats, I’m okay with that. As long as they don’t want their names on the cover.

Meanwhile, I’ve finally written a story in which a cat has center stage. The Eyes of Bast is a shifter tale with a difference. Read on to learn more.

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Excerpt:

Tom finally broke the kiss and leaned back with a sigh. “Ah, Shaina! I should never have allowed you near me. But I was so very lonely… I wasn’t thinking straight. Now I’ve put you in danger too.”

“Danger? What kind of danger?” I reached over to flick the switch on my reading lamp, so I could read his expressions. Then I seated myself cross-legged at his feet and clasped his hands in mine. “Tell me, Tom. Tell me everything.”

“You will not believe me.”

“How could I not believe after – after what I saw this morning?”

His brows knotted together. “I never wanted you to see – I was careless…”

“But I did see. And now I know, at least something about you. But I don’t know enough to help you out of whatever trouble you’re in. Tell me the whole truth. I promise I’ll keep it private, if that’s what you want. And I promise I won’t be shocked.”

Tom’s lush mouth twisted in a grimace of disgust. “You might not be able to keep that promise. But never mind. You’ve asked. I’ll tell you.”

He stared off into the distance, above my head. “I was born in a small town in coastal Maine, about seven years ago.”

“Seven years…?”

“I was born a cat.”

I choked down my cry of surprise. How could it be…?

“Yes. I was born under a wharf. I spent the first six months of my life as a black kitten, a stray living off the scraps from the fishing boats and clam shacks. Then she caught me and made me her prisoner.”

“She?”

“I don’t even want to utter her name. There’s danger in the very word. She is a witch, centuries old, a practitioner of the darkest arts – the epitome of evil. Out walking one evening along the rocky shore, she caught sight of me and wanted me as her familiar. It was easy for her to lure me into her clutches.

“At first she just used me to facilitate her spells. The rumored powers of black cats are more than just legend. Before long, though, she began to experiment.”

His ominous tone sent a chill through my naked body. I pulled the towel around me.

“You see, her advanced age hadn’t diminished her lust. Quite the opposite. She wanted a sexual plaything, someone she could use to satisfy her perverted desires. A male body she could own and control. So she delved into her books of magic, seeking a spell that would turn her poor innocent feline familiar into a man – at least when she wanted him that way.

“Her first attempts failed.” Tom shuddered at the recollection. “She barely managed to save my life. I guess she’d grown fond of me at that point – in her own twisted way.”

“Oh, Tom…”

“Finally, she found a ritual that would change an animal into a human during the hours when the sun was banished from the earth. I’ll never forget the terror of that first transformation, when I found myself wobbling on two legs in front of her naked body. It was even worse than what came after.”

“What was that?”

“Oh, Shaina – I was human, but scarcely a man. I was barely thirteen.”

*****

Blurb:

Trust your heart. Follow your dreams.

Shaina Williams’ grandmother bequeathed her that wisdom, along with a old pendant from the Islands, carved from an ocelot’s tooth. When instinct tells Shaina to visit the feral cat trap she’d set in Central Park, she listens to that inner voice, She discovers she’s caged a magnificent black tom, but the cat inexplicably vanishes after she tends to his wounds. Seeking the errant feline, Shaina encounters instead a handsome stranger whose slightest touch sets her body on fire. As the day dawns after a night of ferocious passion, her mysterious lover is forced back into his true shape – the tomcat she’d rescued.

Born a cat, Tom was transformed into an unwilling shape shifter by a sorceress who craved a human plaything to satisfy her perverse lusts. Centuries old and irresistibly powerful, Delphine Montserrat will stop at nothing to find her runaway familiar. Shaina vows to do whatever is necessary to defeat the vicious but seductive witch and save the man she believes is her soul mate – even though it might mean losing him forever.

Buy Links:

Amazon UK | Amazon US

*****

About the Author:

When I was a little girl, my dad would make up stories for my siblings and me, fabulous sagas about ghosts and monsters, magical races with mysterious powers, heroes on impossible quests, hidden treasures awaiting only the most courageous seeker. I blame him for my lifelong fascination with the magical and miraculous.

Now that I’m grown up, I create my own tales of wonder, weaving in generous portions of human desire with its potent enchantments. In my paranormal tales, love works the most powerful magick.

Find out more about me and my books at my website, Lisabet’s Fantasy Factory (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) and my blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com). I also hang out on Goodreads (http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai) and Amazon (https://www.amazon.com/author/lisabetsarai).  I also have a VIP readers email list where I share release and contest information and run exclusive monthly giveaways. To join, just email me: lisabet [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com.

 

Admit You Want It: BDSM Erotica by Lisabet Sarai

AdmitCover320Deluxe “boxed set” ebook, now available from Books We Love!

Buy link – Amazon US

Buy link – Amazon UK

For connoisseurs of literate kink, Admit You Want It combines eighteen of Lisabet Sarai’s sizzling D/s short stories plus a 30,000 word novella in one economical package.

 

Just a Spanking (pushing limits in an established relationship)

Wired (some technically creative bondage)

Ruler (an absolute monarch learns a lesson)

Silver Bells (intense BDSM holiday ménage)

Sundae, Bloody Sundae (lesbian BDSM about terror and trust )

Stroke (submission is all in the mind)

Quiet Evening at Home (a two-timing charmer gets what he deserves)

Limbo (journeys outside the body to the edges of endurance)

Bangkok Noir (BDSM thriller set in the steamy heart of Asia)

Like Riding a Bicycle (a long-married couple reclaim their kinky roots)

Domestic Goddess (punishing an inattentive Master)

On the Beach (romantic and intense M/F/M ménage)

Shades of Red (femdom revelations in the Amsterdam red light district)

Try Before You Buy (light-hearted lesbian D/s)

Tease (fantasies of submission fulfilled)

Wednesday Night at Rocky’s Ace Hardware (toys are everywhere!)

Higher Power (magick, spirit and submission)

Spank Me Again, Stranger (an unexpected birthday celebration)

Limits: A Love Story (love and blood sports)

 

CaseOfYouSpecial limited time offer! Get a free copy of my BDSM short story A Case of You, just by admitting you want it. Go here for details:

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2014/05/admit-you-want-it.html

 

Reviewers have raved about these tales of dominance and submission. Now you can get a super-sized portion of kinky erotica at a very special price.

“Sarai’s approach to ‘kink’ or BDSM can only be described as ecstatic and profound. Her descriptions of bondage, blindfolding, spanking and whipping manage to be hot yet dignified and respectful of everyone involved, conveying an insider’s knowledge. The varied sex scenes in these stories always seem to flow from the plot and the characters.” Jean Roberta , author of Obsession and Flight of the Black Swan

“If you love BDSM stories that reach into your darkest places and keep you on the edge of your seat, then you simply must give ‘Spank Me Again, Stranger’ a try.” – Whipped Cream Erotic Romance Reviews (five stars)

“’Bangkok Noir’ grabs you from the opening paragraph and doesn’t let you go until the fade-out” – TimTwo Lips Reviews (five kisses)

 

Excerpt:

Wired – Rated X

“What will Steve and Rob think when they come in tomorrow and find you tied to your chair? And when they turn on your monitor?”

I reached over his shoulder to click the switch. As I’d expected, the screen was full of kinky images, men hogtied and suspended, secured in a hundred uncomfortable positions, all with huge, hungry erections.

Krishna looked terrified. “Don’t tell anyone―please don’t tell! They’ll deport me if they find out…”

“Your secret is safe with me.” I tangled my fingers in his opulent hair. “Provided that you cooperate, of course.”

He didn’t bother to ask me what I meant.

I took a moment to drink in the gorgeous picture he made. If his complexion had been lighter, I knew I would have seen the blood heating his cheeks. The festive scarves looked like they’d be pretty effective in keeping him where he was. But they weren’t enough, I sensed. Not for him.

I scanned his office, seeking inspiration, kicking myself for not having brought some of the heavy twine that I used to tie up the bougainvillea  on my balcony. On the other hand, the twine might be too coarse. It might seriously damage that flawless dark skin.

Krishna watched me, eyes wide, frightened and expectant. The weight of his need settled on me like a two ton boulder. Suddenly I felt lost. What was I doing? What did I know about bondage? I paced around the office, trying to act confident and bossy. Playing for time.

Don’t screw things up now, Liz. He squirmed a bit against the silk, testing the strength of the bonds. My pussy spasmed at the sight. Think.

I was getting desperate. Then my eyes lighted on the pile of Cat 5 Ethernet cables coiled neatly in the corner. Aha! Once again I gave thanks for Krishna’s role as sysadmin.

I turned my back on him, bending from the waist to rummage through the collection. My skirt rode up, revealing the purple silk panties that clung to my ass. Krishna’s gaze was a hot spotlight on my scarcely concealed flesh. Could he see the dampness of my inner thighs?

Each cable was labeled in my victim’s precise handwriting. I selected one marked as ten meters. Should be long enough. As an afterthought, I grabbed a couple of short lengths as well. All three were an electric blue color, which I thought would harmonize nicely with the scarves..

I hadn’t thought Krishna’s eyes could open wider. I was wrong.

“No, Liz…don’t…”

“I’ll do what I want.” I was already wrapping the longer cable around his torso. The plastic-sheathed wire circled under his arms and across the back of his chair. I made four or five loops across his chest, careful to align them nicely in parallel stripes across his snow-white shirt. The vivid blue strands were tight enough to indent the fabric and to dig in slightly where they crossed his partially bared chest.

Krishna released a deep moan.

“Too tight?”  I paused in my labors, brushing my hair away from my sweaty forehead. His eyes were closed, long lashes feathering his beautiful brown cheeks. I reached into his lap to squeeze his erection through his trousers. His eyes snapped open. He was harder than ever.

“No, no, it’s just…I shouldn’t…what if someone sees…”

“That’s my problem, not yours. You don’t have any choice anymore. In fact, I think I need to gag you to stop you from complaining.”

“Gag me?”  His face registered true terror, yet his solid cock leaped in my hand. I decided to believe his cock.

I dragged my skirt up to my waist and shimmied out of my panties. The ocean smell of my pussy filled the cubicle. “Open wide,” I told him.

Shame, fear and desire battled in his elegant face. I laid a palm against his smooth cheek. “Open your mouth, Krishna,” I murmured, trying to make my voice gentle. “I know you want to. It’s okay.”

Our eyes met. I saw him melt. I sensed his sudden trust. A bolt of lust sizzled through me. I held the drenched undergarment under his nose. His nostrils flared. Slowly his ripe lips parted. I stuffed the damp ball of crumpled silk into his mouth. He coughed.

“Breathe through your nose,” I told him, remembering what I’d read. “That’s a good boy.”

I hurried to finish the binding I’d planned, eager to get to the next stage. After tying the long cables in a knot behind his chair, I bent to secure his legs with the shorter lengths of wire. It would have been easier if he’d been sitting in a normal chair. I rounded each ankle several times. Then I had to fasten the cable to one of the supports radiating from the star-shaped base. It looked messy, but I hoped that it was stable and tight enough to excite him.

I stood back to survey the result. It took my breath away.

Sturdy blue cables lashed Krishna’s lean body to his chair. The muscles in his thighs tensed under his neat slacks as he strained against his bonds. His mouth was wadded with shocking purple. Damp jet curls tumbled over his brow, making him look boyish yet somehow dissolute. The naked V of chest exposed by his unbuttoned shirt gleamed with perspiration. Tendrils of black hair curled around the wires compressing his tawny flesh. His nipples poked out between two parallel strands like pink pearls.

The fact that he was mostly dressed, the shelf of technical books in the background, the computer monitor blinking behind his trussed form, only made the picture more lewd. There was only one thing missing.

I knelt between his thighs, spread wide by the cables around his ankles. Forcing myself to move slowly, to build the suspense, I reached for his fly.

He jumped at my first touch. My panties muffled his protest. “Don’t you dare come,” I told him, as I drew the zipper down. “Not until I give you permission.”

His cock sprang up through the gap I made. Behind the gag he whimpered like a beaten dog. Saliva gathered in my mouth. Pussy juice trickled from my cleft.

Patience, Liz. Give him what he needs. Then you can take your pleasure.

Trying to ignore the pulse between my thighs, I rolled back onto my heels and stood upright, then pulled out my cell phone. “Now you’re ready, Krishna. Now that you’re—controlled—I’m going to capture this for posterity.” I pointed the camera lens at his bound form.

He grunted, shaking his head violently, tugging against the cables and the scarves. For a moment I worried that he’d topple the chair.

“Hush! Don’t worry. This will be our little secret—as long as you behave, that is. Don’t you want to see what you look like?”

He calmed. He rested in his bonds, motionless and silent. Only  his eyes spoke.

“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, framing his cable-wrapped form on the LCD screen and snapping the shutter. “Beautiful and perverse and unbelievably hot.”

I stuffed the mobile back into my right pocket and pulled a condom from my left. I had waited long enough.

He trembled when I rolled the latex down his length. He moaned into his gag when I straddled his body, knees on the chair seat on either side of his hips, and lowered myself onto his jutting cock. I rocked back and forth, sinking him more deeply into my soaking cunt. I was filled with hot hard flesh—Krishna’s flesh, that I’d craved for so very long. He was mine.

 

Rough Weather by Lisabet Sarai

Rough WeatherDestiny hides in the tempest’s heart

Ondine 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. She concentrates on her work as a marine biologist, spends her weekends relaxing among the waves and worries about human threats to her beloved ocean environment. Fears of a deadly pregnancy like her mother’s make her cautious about sex.

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. He informs Ondine that they share a supernatural heritage and claims she is his destined mate. She responds with scepticism and tries to resist the charismatic Haitian, but ultimately her scientist’s training won’t permit her to deny the evidence of her senses—and her heart. As a brutal northeaster batters the island and Marut’s life hangs in the balance, Ondine learns that true power lies in surrender to her elemental nature.

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of light bondage.

*****

Excerpt:

“I want to bind you.” Marut brandished a pale coil of rope Ondine had never seen before. He had stripped her of her clothes, settled her on her back on top of the quilt and told her to remain still. Simultaneously pliant and eager, she awaited his next move.

Standing naked at the foot of the bed, he reminded her of some Nubian Hercules. Candlelight painted flickering patterns on the sculpted ebony of his chest and danced along the length of his massively erect cock. The luscious sight temporarily distracted Ondine from his words. Saliva flooded her mouth as she remembered his hot seed spilling through her fingers. How she wanted to taste him!

“Do I have your permission, pitit?” He trailed one end of the cord between her breasts and down her belly, making her shiver with delight. She struggled to remain still as he had instructed. “It will strengthen the connection between us, if you trust me enough to render you helpless.”

How could the bond be any stronger? Already her awareness was attuned to his, registering both his excitement and hisdoubts. One part of her was more than willing to accede to his request. Another cringed, near-panicked at the notion of so completely relinquishing control of her body.

He dangled the rope end between her spread thighs and drew it upward to lightly brush her pubic curls. Electric pleasure arced down to her core. Her pussy clamped down on empty space. “Do it,” she gasped, as he flipped the rope back and forth across her mound, grazing her clit. The panic fled, drowned in sensation. “Oh, please, Marut!”

He chuckled, but in delight, not mockery, then seized her wrists with strong fingers and drew them over her head. Lust surged whenever, wherever he touched her. Faint echoes of fear returned with the first loop of rope around her crossed hands, but the purse of his firm lips upon her nipple banished her last reservations.

A gentle tug on her shoulders told her he’d fastened the rope to the brass curlicues of the headboard.

“Too tight?” he asked, sweeping the tangles off her brow and smoothing them across the pillow.

Incoherent with lust, she could do no more than shake her head.

“Try to get free.”

She discovered that, aside from a bit of side-to-side wriggling, her upper body was quite thoroughly immobilised.

“Lovely. Now your legs.”

When he lashed her ankles to the corners of the footboard, spreading her thighs wide to display her drenched and swollen sex, she thought she’d pass out from the arousal. Once more, she felt the tangible pressure of his gaze as he drank in the sight of her, bound and helpless. The ripe smell of the ocean drifted up from her brazenly exposed folds. She’d die if he didn’t touch her again, soon.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful,” he murmured. “Beyond my wildest dreams.”

Lashed to the bed, she couldn’t see him any longer, though she felt the shift as he mounted the far end of mattress. A rush of warm breath invaded her sensitised pussy. She jerked against her bonds.

“Oh, God. Please, Marut!” A breeze tickled the inside of her right thigh, then fluttered down to her bare flesh to her toes. “Oh!” She squirmed as the stream of air traced the same path down her left leg. “What are you doing? Ah…!”

He was visible now, a dark form kneeling between her pale thighs as he bent to blow into her navel, then swept the air stream across her rigid nipples. She arched, straining for actual skin-to-skin contact. Marut just grinned and blew into her armpit.

“Don’t tease me. I can’t stand it!” The tantalizing gusts trailed down across her belly, back towards her sex. Her clit pulsed hard and hungry at the apex of her soaked folds, the centre of her need. He loosed a stream of hot air aimed directly at the aching bud and she screamed at the unbearable intensity of the sensation.

“Ondine…?” Alarmed by her outburst, he backed away. As soon as he did, she wanted him back.

“Marut, I can’t bear any more…”

“Do you think you’re ready?” There was that hint of laughter again in his rich, deep voice.

She wanted to kill him for making her wait. No, that wasn’t right. All she wanted was to fuck him. That was her single all-consuming desire.

*****

Buy Links
Totally Bound
All Romance Ebooks
Amazon US
Amazon UK

*****

Contest!

Win a copy of Rough Weather plus a copy of its sequel,  Hot Spell, the book in which Ondine and Marut first made their appearance. To enter, send an email to contest [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com with the subject line “Rough Weather Giveaway”. Contest closes on March 31, 2014.

*****

Bio

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 – more than fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.

Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre.  She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.

For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com). She also hangs out at the group blog Oh Get a Grip (http://ohgetagrip.blogspot.com), writes monthly reviews for Erotica Revealed (http://www.eroticarevealed.com) and contributes to the ERWA blog (http://erotica-readers.blogspot.com).

 
© 2018 K D Grace
The Romance Reviews

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