Tag Archives: erotic romance

Scandalously Yours…

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So, what is scandalous? It all depends on who’s defining the adjective, which can apply to people, acts, and so on. It can mean “causing general public outrage by a perceived offense against morality or law,” or a shocking, outrageous, monstrous, criminal, wicked, deplorable or intolerable state of affairs, “typically as a result of someone’s negligence or irresponsibility.”

ScandalouslyYoursIn this awesome box set of eight sensual, historical romances, each protagonist creates a scandal, or malicious gossip or rumor that would tend to sully his or her name in the period the story is set.

Wilder’s Thief, by Josie Jax, casts the heroine as a bank robber, something certainly not socially acceptable in any time or place, particularly post-Civil War Missouri, where the infamous James gang terrorized towns with alarming regularity. She’s stealing money that belongs rightfully to her, admittedly—but her temporary avocation certainly creates a scandal!

Aphrodite’s Necklace, by Anh Leod, certainly would scandalize Victorian England! The goddess of love, exiled to staid, proper London as punishment, casts a spell on a young, innocent lady and the family butler, making them insatiable for each other… Scandal, indeed!

In Madamoiselle Makes a Match, by Kate Rothwell, a chambermaid is nudged into giving her virginity to a customer at the inn, only to find he’s a virgin, too. A courtesan called Madamoiselle makes the gentleman realize it’s not only sex but more that makes him want to make the improper liaison permanent.

Lynne Connolly’s novel, Seducing Laura, brings Laura’s old scandal back to life as she and her lover race to prevent a similar scandal from befalling her headstrong niece. Set in Regency England, the tale includes a delightful hint of intrigue as well as the message that love can conquer all.

The Brass Octopus, by Maeve Alpin, brings together a notorious rake and the plain, bookish librarian. With the intervention of her sister and the magical brass octopus, Piety becomes a swan who attracts the rake and awakens her libido despite her determination to remain unwed.

Ann Jacobs’ Beneath a Cornish Moon pits a cursed earl and his selected bride against the forces of evil that have caused mysterious deaths in his demesne. Giants and piskies, bastard brothers, and an evil mother complicate the road to happily ever after for Alain and Lea!

Timeless Voyage, by Cornelia Amiri, demonstrates in Iron Age Ireland that deathly enemies aren’t always what they seem when Anwen’s captive turns out to be the reincarnation of her Roman love.

Finally, in Wooing the Librarian, Jane Leopold Quinn takes readers to 19th century California, where an ex-gunfighter preacher and a would-be mail-order bride find each other despite her determination to avoid emotional entanglements.

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Excerpts:

From Wilder’s Thief, by USA Today bestseller, Josie Jax

Well, she was robbing a bank. That certainly qualified her as barmy. But dang it all to hell, she couldn’t afford to slip into the coddling arms of her wild imagination, not in the middle of a cussed hold-up of all things.

From Aphrodite’s Necklace, by Anh Leod:

Holding the necklace and feeling quite steamy in her private area, she stepped into the hallway. She pressed her thighs together and when she separated them, they were sticky with some kind of hot fluid that had moistened her inside. She swallowed her shock as her nipples thrust against her corset. What was happening to her?

From Madamoiselle Makes a Match, by Kate Rothwell

Summoning all of her bravery, she darted in and landed a quick kiss on his chin but then backed away at once. “There. I was the first to touch. You want to touch me now?”

From Seducing Laura, by Lynne Connolly

That reminder of her one disastrous youthful indiscretion nettled Laura. It was something she preferred to forget. She sipped her tea and allowed her quick temper to subside within her. “That was an entirely different case, and our parents dealt with it smartly. Besides, I wasn’t an heiress. Belinda is. You know we have to be constantly on our guard against fortune hunters.”

From The Brass Octopus, by Maeve Alpin

“You seem uncharacteristically bothered. You do love to judge others, but you are usually quite calm about it–especially here among all your friends…the books.” Polly’s eyes gleamed as she flashed a wry smile. “What did he do?”

“He read a passage of Early Experiences out loud.”

From Beneath a Cornish Moon, by Ann Jacobs

The night seemed as fitting as any might be to stand vigil o’er her sire’s earthly remains. While her silent future husband stood the first watch at the foot of the bier, Lea sat beside the window, her head bowed as she fingered her rosary beads.

Silently Lea grappled with stark reality. She glanced toward Alain. His expression told her naught. He appeared as dark as the night, as mysterious as the Eucharist. No less overwhelming now than when he had worn full armor, he made her tremble, yet lent her strength by his presence.

A strength Lea appreciated more as hours went by and she endured the rituals of saying farewell.

From Timeless Voyage, by Cornelia Amiri

Her captive’s extraordinary eyes, fathomless as the sea, drew her to him. How could a Roman be so handsome?

Thoughts swam in her head. I do not know him. Even if I did, he’s a Roman. I have to hate him.

Laig the Dark headed scowled. “We leave no survivors, save for the Roman slaves we set free.”

From Wooing the Librarian, by Jane Leopold Quinn

In his life before becoming a preacher, in his bounty hunting days, he wouldn’t have bothered with a proper looking woman. He’d needed the easy, no commitment, no responsibility, no-morning-after type of woman back then. It was all different for him now. Now he wanted the morning-after woman, the family, the promise of forever.

About Scandalously Yours authors:

In August 2014, a well-known publisher of erotic romances announced a downturn: slowed sales, layoffs of editors and cover artists, and most important, later and later royalty payments. Authors began requesting reversion of rights, and subsequently a group formed, consisting mostly of former authors of this publisher. Box sets had become the project of the time, and so Under the Sun Publishing was formed as a division of Inkwell Royalty Solutions, to revise former titles from this publisher and bring those that fit the UTS guidelines out in box sets. We have since expanded our offerings to include books originally published elsewhere and never-before-published novels and novellas.

The guidelines: all books would be romances between one man and one woman, sensual to frankly erotic but without the coarse language many readers find objectionable. The first of these sets was released in September 2015, followed by two more in October and November. Book four, the first historical set, was delayed while we evaluated effectiveness of promotion, and Scandalously Yours will enjoy a twenty-stop blog tour before and immediately after its release on March 8, at multiple booksellers rather than as Kindle exclusives.

Under the Sun hopes readers will enjoy the stories it has compiled for them and pass the word along that its box sets are not only great reading but also great bargains!

image UTS logo

Buy links:

Amazon.com— http://amzn.to/1QG7y2d

Amazon UK– http://amzn.to/1POPAdZ

All Romance Ebooks– http://bit.ly/1Vk1rED

Kobo– https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/scandalously-yours-2-166.html

Smashwords– https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/612550?ref=cw1985

Books will also be available at barnesandnoble.com and iTunes (Apple), but buy links are not yet available for them.

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GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://www.writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/scandalously-yours/

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You Never Forget Your First Time: Lisabet Sarai’s New Expanded RAW SILK

rawsilk_revamp_400Raw Silk

New, expanded edition!

 

I published my first erotic novel in 1999. I’ve had many releases since then, but Raw Silk holds a special place in my heart. I was so innocent when I penned this story. I’d never read any romance, and relatively little erotica. I knew nothing at all about the publishing world. All I had were my own fantasies and memories, which I burned to share. Although the book was not in any sense autobiographical, it drew heavily on my personal experience. It has always been one of my most popular works, partly, I think, because readers sense the emotional authenticity of the tale. Kate’s sexual journey mirrors my own, not in detail, but in spirit.

 

Now Totally Bound has given me the chance to revisit that book, revising and expanding it for re-release. It has been a thrill to follow Kate once more through the twists and turns of her adventures in Bangkok. Meanwhile, I’m delighted to have the chance to apply the accumulated knowledge from sixteen years of writing to polish the prose, making the tale shine even more brightly.

 

 

Raw Silk Blurb:

When software engineer Kate O’Neill leaves her lover David to take a job in Thailand, she becomes sexually involved with two very different men—a handsome and debauched member of the Thai aristocracy, and the charismatic proprietor of a sex bar.

Each touches her in a different way, each teaches her different things about her body and her heart.

Then David comes to Bangkok, and Kate realizes that, finally, she must choose one of the three men who all desire her.

 

 

Totally Bound, 2016

Contemporary romantic erotica (Five flames)

 

 

Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of M/M and F/F sex, sex with multiple partners, scenes of mixed ménage, scenes of dubious consent and forced cunnilingus, voyeurism, exhibitionism, sex in public places, pegging as well as the use of inanimate objects during sex scenes.

 

 

Raw Silk Excerpt:

ThaiPavilionGregory turned to Noi. “Help her get ready. I promised her that no one would know who she was.”

“Kate, put yourself in Noi’s hands. She’s an expert.” He bent down to whisper in her ear. “Remember, I will be watching.” She felt a hard pinch on her bottom. “Break a leg,” he said in a jocular tone, then was gone.

Noi took Kate by the hand. “Sit here,” she ordered, “and take off your shirt.” Kate stripped off the T-shirt. She was bare-breasted beneath, but the women around her did not give her a second glance. She sat at the dressing table that Noi indicated, looking at herself in the mirror.

She was flushed. Her green eyes seemed darker than usual, and sparkled with suppressed excitement. The few freckles on her pert nose seemed especially prominent. She looked pretty, alert, and very Irish.

Meanwhile, her nipples were red and rigid, perched high on her full breasts. Touch me, they almost screamed. Pinch me, suck me.

As if reading her thoughts, Noi caught her left nipple between a thumb and forefinger, and gave a little twist. Kate gasped. “You will be very popular,” observed the mamasan dryly. Kate couldn’t help blushing.

Noi began to apply makeup. Kate watched, fascinated, as her ruddy skin became pale, her freckles disappeared, her eyebrows darkened and arched, her eyes became shallow and almond-shaped. In a short time, she was looking at an Asian beauty, perhaps half-Thai, half-American, with moist, full lips and curly red hair.

“My hair…” she protested. Noi reached behind her and produced a wig of straight, black locks. She gathered Kate’s own ringlets into a tight ponytail then fitted the wig.

The transformation was complete. Black bangs cut across her forehead. Black tresses decorated her shoulders. She looked nineteen instead of twenty-eight. And, most assuredly, Thai.

The other girls gathered around. “Oh, madam, you look so beautiful.” Kate couldn’t help but smile, surrounded as she was by gorgeous female faces and forms.

“Here is your costume,” said Noi. “Gregory selected it especially for you.”

Kate grew a little paler. Was she really expected to wear this, in public? She looked at Noi in silent entreaty, but the mamasan just grinned. “Get dressed,” she said. “The dancing will start in just a few minutes.”

TempleGuardianA corset of black vinyl, laced up the front, which cinched her waist and left her breasts bare. The briefest of G-strings, a tiny vinyl triangle that barely hid her bush plus a thong that settled deep in the crevice between her buttocks. Thigh-high vinyl boots with four-inch heels. And, finally, the leather collar she had last worn while Gregory had taken her from behind.

Fully attired, she checked herself in the mirror once more. A stranger stared back, a sultry Asian temptress. The body was more voluptuous than was typical for a Thai, full breasts and thighs that belied the woman’s youthful face. Her red-painted lips were half-open, luscious and inviting. Her skin shone already with a light sheen of sweat. Kate raised her arms above her head and swiveled her hips, as she had seen the other dancers do. The figure in the mirror moved gracefully, languidly, every motion beckoning the viewer to watch, touch, taste, possess her.

“Here is your number.” Noi handed her a plastic chip with a pin on the back. Kate had noticed all the girls wearing them. Apparently they served as a simple accounting mechanism, for tallying the tips the girls received whenever a customer bought them a drink. She smiled wryly, noting that Gregory had assigned her the number sixty-nine.

 

Buy Links (Ebook and Print)

Amazon US

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AUSE5NE/

Amazon UK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01AUSE5NE/

Barnes & Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/raw-silk-lisabet-sarai/1102328201?ean=9781786510051

Totally Bound

https://www.totallybound.com/raw-silk

All Romance

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-rawsilk-1992519-147.html

Goodreads

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28603390-raw-silk

 

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Review Quotes

“This is by far one of the best erotic novels that I have read and it fully deserves every one of the five ribbons I am giving it! But it does make me wonder what the characters could do with them.” ~ Maree Schuler, Romance Junkies (Five Ribbons).

 

“[Kate’s] character grows and she comes to realize her inner needs along with her deep sexual desires. Lisabet Sarai has a flair for sexy, sensuous romance with an edgy feel. I cannot wait to read more by this talented author.” ~ Dawnie, Fallen Angels Reviews (Five Angels).

 

“The Bangkok setting is fascinating and adds to the overall feeling of opulent sensuality. Lisabet Sarai deftly shows the country without ever letting the descriptions take over the story. Good BDSM novels are voyages of self-discovery, and Raw Silk is a journey you’ll enjoy taking.” ~ Kathleen Bradean, Erotica Revealed

 

“…this is one SIZZLING read (the ending was incredible) and should not be put on the back burner of your ‘to read list.” ~ Alyssa, Amazon review (Five stars)

 

About Lisabet

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

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (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 and finally, on Twitter.

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101: Part 2

Writing pen and birds 1_xl_20156020What if you got punished when you didn’t get your dreams right? That’s the dilemma our heroin, Leah, has in the second instalment of The Psychology of Dreams 101.

No, I didn’t dream it, and I’m seriously hoping I dot get punished like Leah and Al do if I don’t get it quite right, but The Psychology of Dreams did bubble up from somewhere in my unconscious last week, and I had to share it. The Muse has been back knocking around in my imagination again, so today I’m back with another instalment of a new serial.

The Psychology of Dreams 101, is a romp into the sexy unconscious as Leah Kent takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required Dream Journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys.

I have no idea how long this little ditty will be, nor where it will lead, but I’m willing if you are. Please, read and enjoy The Psychology of Dreams 101.

 

 

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101: Chapter 2

Blank Pages and Punishment 

“I’m not pleased with your dream journal, Leah.” It was so much like the dream, that it took her breath away. She stood before Al Foster’s desk in the empty classroom, him offering her a concerned look over the top of his glasses. It was so much like the dream, in fact, that she gave a quick glance down to make sure she still wore jeans and a pullover and not transparent red underwear.

“I don’t understand,” she said, clasping her bag to her chest to hide the press of her nipples, which didn’t really care if she wore red underwear or not. They seemed more interested in the close proximity of Al Foster.

“Why are you writing down made-up dreams? I can tell when you’re making it up, Leah. I can always tell. Is the technique I shared with you not working? If not, just tell me and we can try something else.”

“I haven’t been using the technique,” she blurted. “I haven’t needed to.” Fuck! That was an unfortunate slip.

“Oh?”

She tried to recall if she’d ever seen bluer eyes than his. Her dreams got it right, even with the glasses that made him look like a sexy nerd, you couldn’t miss the blue. His unkempt blond hair was the color of ripe wheat. Her dreams got that right too. She loved the way it fell down all disorderly and wild over his eyes when he spanked her.

“Leah? Are you all right?”

She jumped at the sound of her name. “I’m sorry. I’ve not been sleeping well,” she said. She didn’t know why she said that. If anything she’d been sleeping too well.

“Oh?” He slid his chair back and came to stand beside her. He was taller than she thought, and she blushed at the sight of his belt, brown leather. It looked soft like swede, but she knew it packed a wallop – at least it did when he wielded it. “Is it because of the dreams?” His blue gaze studying her from behind the glasses made her feel like she was under a microscope or in front of a two-way mirror, made her feel like she was standing there in his classroom in nothing but transparent red underwear. “Leah,” he said, touching her shoulder and gently guiding her to sit in one of the seats in the front row, while he pulled a chair up to face her. “Are the dreams erotic? Is that why you feel you can’t write them down for me? Because everyone has erotic dreams and, in fact, they may well be more likely to if they’re keeping a dream journal for sharing.

“They’re about you.” She hadn’t planned to say that. She’d planned to lie, but she was never very good at lying.

He blinked, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “About me.”

She nodded.

“Well,” he scooted back ever so slightly and straightened in his chair so that he could study her more Sleeping woman reading181340322466666994_IswNAb85_bcarefully, “that’s not unusual either.” He smiled, and a soft blush crawled up his neck and onto his cheeks. “I’ve actually had students make up dreams about me. They were surprised when I called them on it. I have to say you’re the first woman to do the opposite, to hide those dreams from me. Oh, it’s not unusual for people to try to hide their erotic dreams, not at all, but I can pretty much guess that if a particularly steamy dream turns up about me, the writer is a woman. She’s made it up, and it’s more a fantasy than any dream she’s likely to have.”

“Oh believe me, it’s better this way,” she managed, still clutching her bag to her chest. “I mean me keeping them from you. I … I could barely write them down for myself.”

“But you did then? You did write them down?”

She nodded, her mouth gone suddenly dry. She hadn’t meant to tell him that either. “Just not in there.” She gestured to her class dream journal laying on his desk.

“I see.” He ran a hand through his hair leaving it standing in spikes and waves, making her ache to straighten it for him, or maybe muss it up further. “Leah, will you let me read the real journal. No one will know what you wrote but you and I, and I understand the psychology of dreams; I understand that we have no control over what happens in the unconscious. I promise I would never –”

“You spank me,” she blurted.

He sucked a heavy breath. “I spank you?”

“Yes, you spank me, and you tell me you’ll keep punishing me until I get my dreams right, until I dream about you, and it’s always the same, with the two of us alone in this room and you taking your belt off and you turning me over your knee and telling me that if you spank me, then maybe the pain in my — ” she made a quick jerk of her neck toward her backside “—will help remind me to dream of you. There’s only the one dream,” she added quickly, “well variations of it.”

After a few fish gasps and another hand through his hair, he squared his shoulders, and shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I see. So, recurring dreams, are they?” He offered her a smile that wavered only slightly.

“Recurring? Yes, I suppose they are. I never thought of it like that.” If she was going to be brave enough to tell him the truth, then she might as well show him the rest of it too. She dug in her bag for her real dream journal and pulled out the page that she’d torn from the one for class, the page with the note she’d written to herself. “I woke up to find this in my journal after the first spanking dream.” She handed it to him.

To her shock and discomfort, he read it out loud.

You look beautiful when you dream. It was a good dream, the kind you don’t want to wake up from. At last, Leah, you’re doing it right! You can always tell when you do it right by the way your nipples bead beneath the sheet, by the way your lips turn up at the corners, slightly parted as though waiting to be kissed. And, take a sniff, Leah. Your scent is the scent of dreams well dreamed, luscious and ripe. Well done, Leah! Well done!

For a moment they both sat in silence, him staring down at the words on the page, her staring at her feet.Dreams imageIMG_0347 Then he took off his glasses and joined her in gazing at his own feet. At last he raised his eyes back to her and took a deep breath. “Why did you tear this out?”

“Because I don’t remember writing it. It’s not a dream, it’s like, I don’t know, me talking to myself in my sleep or something, and I thought if you read it you’d think … ”

“I’d think what?”

“That I just made it up that I was just being … you know, pathetic.”

“Why would I think that?” He put his glasses back on and looked at the note again. “It seems to me like your unconscious had you pegged pretty well here,” then he added quickly, “of course I don’t know what you look like when you dream or what your physiological responses are, but it makes sense. I … I smell differently when I wake up after a strong dream, and,” he looked away quickly, “I get … hard too, when I’m doing it right.” He blushed and she blushed for him and they were both looking at their feet again.

“But how can there be a right way and a wrong way to dream? I mean I’ve read way ahead in the texts you’ve recommended and done some research on my own. We really sort of just dream what we dream, don’t we?”

“That’s what I thought,” he said, scooting closer to her with a screech of the chair legs on the floor. “But then I started getting … comments like this.” He nodded down to her note, “comments from my unconscious, I assume, and I also have dreams about not doing it right.”

“Did you get … you know … spanked?”

This time it was more than a blush, his whole face redden, and the fine muscles along his cheek bones twitched. “It was rather more than a spanking, I’m afraid.”

“More than a spanking?” Her pulse hammered in her words, as she pushed forward on the edge of her seat.

“Do you know anything about BDSM, Leah?” His own pulse kept beat in his words and thudded in his throat as he pinned her in his gaze.

“A little. I’ve read a few novels, done a bit of research … online,” she added quickly.

“Does it frighten you?”

“A little yes. And it intrigues me.”

“This time I was tied up, flogged and had … implements placed …” He looked away as though he expected to find the words he was looking for floating on the air outside the window in the parking lot. “I had things shoved up my … butt,” he finally managed avoiding her gaze.

“Oh? Oh, wow!” The words were out before she could stop them. And they were followed in rapid succession by, “how was it?”

“Not like I expected.” He forced himself to meet her gaze. “I woke up … aroused,” he gave a little nod and lowered his eyes to the note still clenched in his hand. “I had to masturbate before I could function and, after, I found a note in my dream journal similar to this. One I don’t remember writing. Anyway,” he said looking up at her again. “The person doing things to me, in my dream, she kept saying that I wasn’t doing it right, that I should dream about her and she would punish me until I did.”

“She?” Leah asked.” He nodded, carefully maintaining uncomfortable eye contact. “Was she me?” The words were out before she could stop them. Clearly the internal editor was having a day off, she thought.

“I honestly don’t know. I never saw her face. But I know she was a woman because I felt her breasts against my back when she moved in close to tighten my bonds.” He glanced at the door as though he feared someone might be listening there. “I know you must think me some kind of a pervert telling you this, you being my student and all, but I’ve been teaching this class for ten years – here and in other places; I’ve seen more dream journals than I could possibly keep track of, and most of them are full of dreams that are just exactly what I would expect to surface from someone’s unconscious.” He shrugged. “I get a fair few people, women in particular, faking their dreams, making them up either to impress me or because they’re embarrassed. But you – you started out writing your dreams, and then you suddenly stopped after you’d been so earnest in your efforts with the journal. I knew something was up. I could feel it. I never expected this though.” He nodded down to the note he still held, then handed it back to her.

“The thing is, Leah, no on else has ever had a similar experience, an experience that mirrors my own, until you.”

For a moment the two sat in silence, and then Leah took a deep breath. “You said ‘this time,’ like it wasn’t the first time, like it’s happened before.”

“Lots of times before.”dark moon image_xl_6338206

“And it’s different each time?”

“Not every time, but frequently. What’s always the same is that it involves some kind of erotic punishment, and I never climax in the dream, though I want to. I really need to. I wake up frustrated and unable to do anything until I … take care of it. It’s the same for you, isn’t it, Leah?”

Out Now – Sweet Spot by Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #lesfic #erotica #romance #lesbian

Sweet SpotBlurb:

Virginia Miller is an up-and-coming tennis star. She’s gone from a ratty tennis court in a park in south London, England, to the world’s top training facility—Los Carlos Tennis Academy in California. In awe of the talent around her, Virginia is all the more determined to make the most of the opportunity and show that she’s worthy of her place there. Her mentor, Nadia Gorlando, has every faith in her.

But Virginia finds herself distracted—Nadia, as well as being a top-notch tennis player, is seriously sexy, and Virginia’s mind keeps wandering where it shouldn’t. Will her crush get in the way of her career, or can she find a way to push the other woman out of her mind before it’s too late?

Please note: This is a re-released title with a new cover—the book content hasn’t changed.

Amazon: http://mybook.to/sweetspot

Other buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sweet-spot/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21521972-sweet-spot

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Excerpt:

Nadia Gorlando and I had just gotten off the exercise bikes in the gym when one of the academy’s coaches, Peter Ross, headed over to us, all smiles.

“Hey, Nadia,” he said, his all-American grin widening and his blond hair flopping down over his forehead, “I need a huge favor.”

I flicked my gaze to Nadia. She raised one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows and waited for him to continue. He did.

“I totally lost track of time just now and I have an appointment with Travis Connolly. Would you mind wiping down my machine for me? Or maybe stick a note on it saying it’s out of order? I don’t want to leave it all sweaty for someone else. You’ll be doing me a real solid. I’ll owe you.”

My jaw almost hit the floor.

Now Nadia rolled her eyes, looked over at the offending machine, then back at Peter. “Sure, I understand,” she said, as cool as ice. “The world’s number one can’t wait. Go right ahead—I’ll fix it for you.”

He babbled a load of thanks, then jogged out of the gym.

I gaped at her. “You’re not going to do it, are you?”

Nadia chuckled. “Of course not. He may be coaching Travis Connolly and Rufus Lampani for the US Open, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to clean up his mess.” She pointed with her chin over to the machine Peter had just vacated. “Come on, V, I’ll show you how I’m going to deal with this.”

I followed her, grinning. Her tone told me that it was going to be something fun. Well, for us, anyway. Probably not for Peter.

Sure enough, when she returned from the room off the side of the gym, she had a pad of paper and a pen in her hands. Deliberately shielding the pad from my view, she wrote something down, then pulled off the top sheet. Folding it, she then propped it on the sweat-slicked seat so the writing was on view to anyone who happened past.

When I’d read and absorbed the words, I turned to Nadia, impressed. Her smile lit up her face, showing dimples in each cheek, and her brown eyes gleamed with amusement.

It was in that moment that I decided I had the serious hots for Nadia Gorlando.

The sign read,

PLEASE EXCUSE THE STATE OF THIS MACHINE. PETER ROSS, TENNIS COACH SUPREMO, “LOST TRACK OF TIME”.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of, and an Amazon bestseller) and Eyes Wide Open (an Amazon bestseller). Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 140 publications to her name. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more about her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk, or on Twitter and Facebook. You can also subscribe to her monthly newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

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Lisabet Sarai discusses The Romance of Surrender

BlogTourButtonNew Release: The Gazillionaire & the Virgin

“Trust can’t be bought—it has to be earned.”

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It’s very much my pleasure to be hosting Lisabet Sarai today on the blog tour for her latest novel, The Gazillionaire and the Virgin, a fab new BDSM novel you won’t want to miss. Lisabet has a great post, a sizzling excerpt and a truly delish giveaway you won’t want to miss out on! Read, enjoy, and comment to be included for the giveaway draw! Welcome, Lisabet! 

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“BDSM? Yuck!” I have the impression that this represents the reaction of some 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?

 

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.

 

A caveat: not everyone agrees with me. (My husband would be amazed to hear me admit that!) Some readers prefer their BDSM rough, with an edge of real cruelty that would definitely limit my enjoyment. For some people, the objects of discipline themselves hold a fetishistic attraction. There’s also a tendency in some romance books to play with BDSM paraphernalia in vanilla relationships, where blindfolds and bonds function as sex toys to enhance the excitement of the participants.

 

The BDSM that I write, however, 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.

 

I’ve written books without any BDSM elements, but it seems I always come back to my first love. The more I write in the genre, too, the better I think I have become at expressing the nuances of these complex relationships. My new novel The Gazillionaire and the Virgin goes beyond stereotypes to portray what I believe is a very realistic D/s relationship—one that includes give and take, doubt and confusion, as well as ecstasy.

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This post is part of my Gazillionaire and Virgin blog tour, running from February 1st to 15th. Leave me a comment on this post, including your email address, and I’ll enter you to win a $50 bookstore gift certificate (first prize) or a print copy of the new book (second prize). Visit all the stops for more chances to win. You’ll find the full list here:

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2016/01/blog-tour.html

 

BlogTourBanner

 

The Gazillionaire and the Virgin Blurb:

 

Silicon Valley entrepreneur Rachel Zelinsky is not a woman who lets pleasure interfere with business, but when she meets reclusive genius Theo Moore, she can’t resist his geeky appeal. Though Theo’s knowledge about sex derives from extensive research and a stash of kinky porn rather than real-world experience, he is Rachel’s first true Master—and the first man to truly touch her heart.

 

Contemporary BDSM erotic romance (Five flames)

Approximately 62,000 words, 240 pages in print

HEA ending

 

Quotes

 

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

 

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

 

Ebook Buy Links (Print coming soon!)

Amazon US

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01B76B95K/

Amazon UK

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01B76B95K/

Barnes & Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-gazillionaire-and-the-virgin-lisbet-sarai/1123327821?ean=2940157884932

All Romance

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-thegazillionaireandthevirgin-1974313-354.html

Kobo

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-gazillionaire-and-the-virgin

Goodreads:

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28766414-the-gazillionaire-and-the-virgin

 

TheGazillionaireAndTheVirgin_400X Rated Excerpt The Gazillionaire & the Virgin:

I nearly step on her.

“Rachel! What the—”

She sits cross-legged on the carpet, half-inside my clothes closet, wearing one of my dress shirts,
unbuttoned, over her nakedness. Glossy magazines are scattered around her, their covers awash with female flesh—stripped, blindfolded, gagged, clamped, twisted into impossible positions, limbs wrapped in rope or leather, scarlet nipples bulging and sore, eyes full of terror and devotion. One of the publications lies in her lap, open to the Technicolor image of a woman strapped to a padded horse, with some anonymous hand buried to the wrist in her stretched asshole.

Oh God, no! I want to sink through the floor with shame. At the same time, my cock is like stone. “Rachel—um—it’s not what you think…”

She gazes up at me with a half-smile. “Oh? Really?” Her voice is mild. She sounds amused rather than shocked as she gestures at the masses of porn surrounding her. “Are you trying to tell me these aren’t yours?”

“Well—um—not exactly…”

“Quite a collection.” As she rolls onto her hip then rises to a kneel, she gives me an appraising look. “I’m impressed.”

“You’re not—not—disgusted?” I’m frozen in place, transfixed by embarrassment and lust. Her lush breasts jiggle as she approaches, still on her knees. I’m so hard it hurts.

“Not at all. This explains quite a lot.” She’s at my feet now, her chin tilted up so she can meet my eyes. Her tawny nipples peek out from the gap in my shirt. Coppery curls frame her angel’s face. “I finally understand, Theo.”

She purses her lips to blow a stream of hot air over my aching erection. My dick jerks. I almost come.

“Rachel—please—ah!”

“Mmm…” she hums around my cock, taking the length down her throat, just like the girls in my videos. I forget to be embarrassed. I forget I need a shower. Everything slips away except the juicy warmth of her mouth, the dance of her tongue, the unrelenting suction she applies as she bobs up and down on my shaft.

Oh my God! It’s almost too intense. I close my eyes at first, focusing on the unbelievable sensations. Soon, though, I have to look—it’s just so perfect. Rachel Zelinksy is on her knees! Sucking me like some eager Internet slut. She’s even got her hands clasped behind her back as she leans in to swallow me, as if I’d cuffed her.

Does she know what she’s doing to me? Is this part of her plan? I don’t care. I weave my fingers into her unruly hair and take over, using her mouth to get myself off. Almost immediately, she surrenders. Her lips go slack, stretching to accommodate me, and her jaw relaxes to accept my thrusts. She gags when I push deeper, but when I back off, she follows, burying her nose in my crotch. She wants this. She wants me to fuck her face as if I own her. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.

That knowledge is the detonator. I shudder and explode, flooding her mouth with cum. Her muscles work around my cock as she swallows, triggering another burst. Poor Rachel tries hard, but she can’t keep up with me. As I pull out, semen spills out between her swollen lips to dribble down her chin. Porn-inspired, I aim my still-spurting dick at her glorious tits, painting them with streaks of white.

When I’m finally finished, I collapse to my knees and take her in my arms, smearing my own chest with cum. “Oh, Rachel…” I don’t know what to say. Thank you? Im sorry? I just kiss her, deep and hard, hoping she’ll understand.

 

About Lisabet:

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

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (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 and finally, on Twitter.