Monday, November 24, 2014

Never a Happily Ever After? The Stanhope Challenge, by Cerise DeLand

Four brothers, four love affairs, four marriages that challenge the Stanhope family curse

Jack, Adam, Wes and Mark Stanhope fear falling in love. No wonder. No Stanhope has enjoyed a happy marriage in centuries. What does it take to change the family curse? Courage? Devotion? Love?

Adam Stanhope is a politician who needs a wife. When he marries for convenience, he overlooks the fact that he cares for his lovely childhood friend more than he should.

Wes Stanhope is a national hero, but he’s wounded physically and emotionally. When the woman he loves wants to help him, he learns that the woman he adores can be just as courageous in the bedroom as he was on the battlefield.

Jack Stanhope leads a carefree existence but when he meets Emma Darling, he realizes that in saving this woman from dastardly men is his saving grace.

Illegitimate Mark Stanhope expects nothing from his family, but when they save him, he in turn saves a young noblewoman who has the valor to stand against others who would abuse her.

Cerise DeLand brings you the story of the Stanhope family whose members for centuries have not enjoyed any happily-ever-after love affairs!

Four book boxed set available now for only 99 cents!

Here’s a nibble of Cerise’s new cherry:

London, January 1809

It is a truth, universally accepted, that a politician in want of the premiership must also be in want of a wife.

Felice knew that was her new husband’s justification for marrying her so quickly.

A reason as good as my own,” she told herself as she combed her hair back from her face and fluffed the ruffled bodice of her wedding dress.
She pursed her lips, wondering how Adam really kissed a woman. How he kissed his mistresses. After the ceremony minutes ago, he had merely brushed her mouth with his. She’d always thought her lips worth more than a peck—and she was determined that this second husband of hers would do more than ignore her.

I’ll ensure that he does,” she resolved, with a check of her figure in the cheval mirror in the retiring room of her new brother–in–law’s mansion on Grosvenor Square. “After all, the fictitious Miss Proper has charms that Adam does not know about.” Nor should he!

That secret could ruin her marriage. “And I intend to keep both the secret and my marriage!”

So go to your wedding breakfast and be done with this mooning. She had accepted his proposal. Now she would reap the rewards. London Society was open to her—the excitement of their lives, their intrigues ready fodder for her pen. For her romances and poems.

She frowned at herself.

Be honest, Fee. You want more than inspiration for your stories. More than a means to repay that nefarious man your first husband’s debt. You want Adam Stanhope gracing your own bed, not just his look-alike walking on the pages of your newest romance. You want him inside your body. Making you wet and warm. And kissing your—

A quick knock at the door had her whirling.

Dear Felice,” cooed her husband’s Great Aunt Amaryllis from behind the portal. “Do come out now. We are quite eager to applaud you and Adam. The guests, too, are clamouring for the receiving line!”

Fee scoffed. Most likely, the men wanted more wine while they made wagers on how soon Adam would bed her. And the women? They wanted to assess how a country mouse like her managed to snare the renowned, rich and eloquent Adam Stanhope. Third son of the earl. Widower. Father. Someday soon, the head of his party, if the papers and broadsheets were to be believed. And thereafter certainly, prime minister.

Adam Stanhope,” she murmured to herself. “A great catch, Fee. If you can intrigue him.”

And there was the rub.

Adam, now thirty, was notorious for outlandish behavior. When he’d turned seventeen, he’d run away from home and sailed to Hong Kong to work with his cousin in his Far Eastern trading company. Four years later, he’d come home to finish his education at Cambridge, marry the beauty of the Season and run for Parliament. He’d won twice now. But since his wife had died in childbirth, Adam had made a name for himself as a rake. He was just like his brothers in that regard. Still, he was the only one who had married and challenged the Stanhope family curse. For it was a legend that no matter whom a Stanhope married, no matter that person’s quality of character or breeding or good intentions, once wedded, a Stanhope lived in hell.

I will be happy.” Felice repeated the phrase that had become her motto ever since Adam had appeared in Kent last month and proposed.
I’ll dispense with this hideous man plaguing me for money to cover those old debts. Then I will devote myself to ensuring Adam is happy. I will be a social asset to him. And a good mother to his son.”

What more could a man ask for?


A politician has to have a wife! Who the devil put that ridiculous rule about, Reggie?” Adam Stanhope asked his friend as he paced in his brother Jack’s drawing room at eleven in the morning. He threw back another shot of Jack’s fine brandy and coughed. “Oh, lord, that burns all the way down. Whose idea was it to stay out all night, eh?” He scrubbed his hand over his face, acknowledging his predicament had less to do with excess alcohol than with Fee Wentworth. Correction, Stanhope. “Dammit, you’d think a respectable widower with an heir earned the right to be free!”

No help for it, old man,” Reggie responded and drained his glass of spirits. “Damn good stuff, if I say so myself! But see here, Adam, you admitted you need her. We’ve been through this entire argument before. You’ve got a bit of a reputation, courtesy of that Miss Proper’s ramblings and—”

The far door burst open. Adam’s oldest brother, Jack, appeared in all his dark imperious hauteur. He took one look at both men and slipped inside to shut the world out. “Now, Adam. Reggie. What the hell are you doing in here drinking?”

Adam cocked a long black brow at the man who expected to be obeyed in all things. “Drowning my sorrows.”

Too late for that!” Jack’s mouth twitched in a grin. “Get the hell out there so we can toast the good health of the bride and groom.”

Come, come, Jack,” he grumped, “you know what this marriage means for me.”

Jack’s black brows arched high. “Oh, I do. One look at your bride and I have a very good idea that—”

Adam scowled at his brother. “She’s lovely.” Damned gorgeous, in fact. And mine, god help me now. “But I have ruined her.”

Jack startled. “You’ve had her? Already?”

No, no. That’s not what I mean.”

Jack, his grimace deepening, strode over to remove the snifter glass from Adam’s fingertips. “Sadly, I know what you mean. And this does not help.”

I’ve known her since she was ten, Jack!” Adam thrust out a hand, roiled by what he had just done to this sweet, shy woman.

And? She was a charming child then. Now you have—”

Wrecked her life! That’s what I’ve done!”

Jack narrowed his eyes on his brother. “How late did you stay at White’s last night?”

When Adam said “Ba!” and shook his head, Jack peered at Reggie.

How late?”

The man winced and brushed imaginary crumbs from his cravat. “Five. Six. Not certain. We were winning at dice, you see, and couldn’t leave.”
Jack glared at the ceiling. “I hope to god it was profitable.”

Adam grinned through his pain. “Five thousand in my pockets I hadn’t had before!”

The far door opened again. An auburn–haired man stuck his head in. “What the hell is the delay here?”

Jack beckoned him. “Wes, Adam is having a rather belated moment of introspection. Do come in and help me talk sense into our youngest brother.”

Wes took a step inside and shut the door behind him. In his cavalryman’s dress blues, he leaned back against the door. “What’s the matter, Adam? Nerves?”

Adam rolled his shoulders. “Every man’s entitled. You told me so yourself.”

That,” Wes chuckled as he limped over to the chair beside Adam and fell into it, “is before a man goes into battle!”

Well, I am!”

Wes gave him the quelling glance his men termed The Demand. “You are married.”

I know I thought it a good idea. Despite the horror of my marriage to Sarah.” The mere mention of his first wife sent a wave of revulsion through him. “Everyone thought it a good idea. My colleagues. The Prime Minister. But you both, most of all, know this won’t work.”
Wes pursed his lips. “I’ve seen your new lady wife, and I say give it a go. If you admit defeat before you start, you’re doomed.”

This is not a cavalry charge,” Adam murmured.

Wes shrugged. “Perhaps it should be.”

Wes, have a little pity,” Adam pleaded, his head splitting from too much whiskey and too little sleep.

No pity for you,” Wes shot back. “Felice lives up to her name in temperament as far as I can tell. And her figure, Adam, has certainly become more alluring than when I last saw her in Great Aunt Amaryllis’ garden.”

She was ten!”

Was she, now? Hmm. No wonder she was flat-chested.”

Now see here,” Adam admonished his older brother. “Her figure is—”

Superb and yours to explore.” Wes wiggled his brows suggestively, then looked at Jack. “We met her when we first summered at Aunt’s house. What year was it Father foisted us off on the poor old gel?”

Adam groaned. “It doesn’t matter!” I liked her then. Enjoyed her wit and intelligence every time we met. Now I’ve gone and hurt her irrevocably.

Jack shook his head. “Don’t argue with him, Wes. He’s got a snoot full from an all-night gambling rout at White’s. It only encourages him to debate you. And neither of us can ever outtalk him.” He gave his brother, the Colonel and Man of Action, a wide-eyed look of despair.
The curse is upon him.”

Oh, hell,” Wes mourned. “Not that again.”

Adam frowned at both of his brothers. “That again? I don’t seem to recall that either of you is yet married. Why not?”

Not our time,” Jack told him.

No woman I like enough,” Wes added. “You, Jack?”

None I cannot live without,” Jack said with pointed disdain for the subject. “Come on, Adam, let’s do our drinking out there with all the others.”

They all wonder, you know,” Adam offered, his gaze on the door.
What?” Reggie asked when the two Stanhope brothers didn’t respond to him.

All three Stanhopes considered Reggie Mortenson with bleak expressions.

Adam answered for them all. “They wonder when Felice will leave me. As we speak, they are out there taking wagers on the number of months she remains.”

The Stanhope women don’t all leave,” Jack reminded Adam.

The three brothers winced and looked at anything but each other. Adam knew each man thought of his own mother and how each had died in succession. And even though Jack’s mother passed away after a riding accident, Wes’s died of consumption and Adam’s of childbed fever, the ton declared each woman had suffered first and foremost from a broken heart.

He says he loved each one,” Jack reminded them of the phrase their father repeated to them often.

Adam shut his eyes. “He declares he loved Clarice’s mother, too!” Their charming half-sister Clarice had been Stanhope’s by-blow, conveniently born between Jack and Wes.

Aye,” Wes acknowledged with a smirk. “In his prime, the man was a walking satyr.”

Jack inclined his head toward Wes. “Astonishing, isn’t it, that he managed his estates as well as he did, hopping from bed to bed like a right royal degenerate.” He flourished a hand. “Yet, he cared for each woman he bedded.”

Adam growled. “How can you believe him?” He had never known their father to be honest with anyone, least of all his three legitimate sons.

You were four years old,” Adam reminded Jack, then faced Wes. “And you were two when I was born and my mother took a childbed fever.
How can you know that he tells the truth?”

Jack rolled a shoulder. “Perhaps on this one issue…”

Adam shook his head, hands fisted on his hips. “I long to see the day each of you faces a woman whom you do not wish to kill with the family curse.” He straightened his cravat and ran two hands through his hair. “For god’s sake. Open the damn door, Wesley, I’m ready to claim my bride and ruin both our lives.”

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About Cerise

Cerise DeLand loves to cook, hates to dust, lives to travel, read—and write sexy romances. A Top 20 Bestselling author on many sites, Cerise is known for writing eloquent, rapturous stories.
Come to her blog and find FAB.U.LOUS pix of her recent trip to France, including pictures of Malmaison, Fountainebleau, Chantilly and more more more! She also gives you her version of French recipes she adores!

Where else am I?

Come nibble more of my cherries at
Twitter: @cerisedeland
Facebook: Cerise DeLand

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Sunday Snog #150: The Ingredients of Bliss

I can't believe this is my one hundred fiftieth snog. How did I ever get into this? It's all Victoria's fault. Now I have to find new kisses every week - and have to make sure that every new story I write contains at least one or two, just to keep the supply flowing...

What fun!

Today I've got a new bit from The Ingredients of Bliss for you. And to mark Snog #150, I'm doing a giveaway, too. Leave a comment and I'll enter you in a drawing for a $10 Totally Bound gift voucher. Don't forget to include your email, of course!

As usual, when you're finished with my snog, click back to Victoria's Blisse Kiss Central for more weekend kisses!


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 organisations?

With each breath, I expected to tumble over the edge. Instead, the tension just coiled tighter on each stroke, trembling, explosive, looming like thunderheads swollen with rain. Id never felt such an overwhelming need, and yet it seemed hed take me higher still.
I focused on his cock, the astonishing sense of connection when his flesh mingled with mine. This is my love. Only that thought remained, as he pounded into me. His nails scoring my rear cheeks, he held me open so he could thrust deeper, into the very heart of me.
His rod twitched and shuddered.Emily!he bellowed, driving into me one last time. There was an instant when the fullness increased, as he swelled. Then he burst inside me, bathing me in hot fluid.
Lightning flashed. The storm broke. I came like wind and rain, with gasps and tears, showering my pleasure down on my lover.

God, Im sorry, Em.Harry traced the raw crescents his fingernails had left in my flesh.Ill get some disinfectant.

No!I rolled onto my backwincing a bit as the wounds grazed the sheetsand pulled him down on top of my prone body.Youre not going anywhere right now.I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist to enforce my statement.Kiss me.

Youre pretty uppity for a sub, arent you?he laughed. However, he obeyed my command, sealing his lips to mine.
He let me control the kiss at first, and I took advantage, probing his sweet, hot mouth and nibbling at the corners. Before long, though, he reasserted himself. He bore down, till my lips were bruised and sore, drinking me in like he couldnt get enough.
Finally he allowed me to catch my breath. His nutmeg-brown eyes were hazy with exhaustion and desire.I love you so very much. Im not sure you can understand…”

I have some idea, Harry. I feel the same. Well, I dont know if its exactly the same, since youre Dominant and Imwell, not. At least not usually.

 “You can kick ass when you want to, Ms Wong.

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Undressing for Love

By David S. Russell (Guest Blogger)

Greetings. I am a writer in the genres of translation, journalism, poetry and fiction. As a journalist, I have had many critical articles published in the online magazine  Poetry Express Newsletter. My translation of the 16th Century Spanish epic La Araucana by Alonso de Ercilla, is published by Amazon. I have one collection of poems and proses, Prickling Counterpoints in paperback, and much more published online and in anthologies, including those produced by Forward Press. Some of my speculative prose and verse has appeared in the online International Times.
I am also a visual artist, and there will be an exhibition of prints of my artworks at the Gallery Atlantis in Jackson, Tennessee, USA, in the spring of 2015. 
In addition to that I am a guitarist-singer-songwriter, with many CD albums, including Bacteria Shrapnel and Kaleidoscope Concentrate, plus many tracks on YouTube under David Russell. The most downloaded tracks there are Microscope and Symbiotic Suffocation.

I was stimulated to write romance/erotica by a close friend who produced some beautiful work in that idiom. I find writing romance is soothing and uplifting, a good counterweight to my struggles with the speculative and the critical. I had to overcome many inhibitions to enter this area; in some ways I had been brought up to be a prudish Victorian. What emerged from my efforts has been labeled as ‘soft vanilla’ or literary romance by some of my reviewers. To this date I cannot write in the fully explicit mode; to me these matters should be described obliquely and poetically – so much more of a turn-on. My characters are intellectual and introspective; they carefully premeditate their scenarios.

I think I have a wardrobe fetish, as the article below will demonstrate:
Undressing for Love
For me, sex is nothing without refined, dramatic foreplay. Dressing and undressing are the kingpin of that foreplay. There are five basic kinds of unrobing which can be brought into any encounter.
Girl undresses in front of boy: any girl that takes the disrobing initiative can get really proud and confident, and pre-establish her control over the love scene. Girls: do a self-striptease in front of the mirror; love the sight of your bodies. say – however great you look in any outfit, you look ten times lovelier with your clothes off.
Boy undresses in front of girl: come on: get over your shyness, boys. Do your own self-striptease: do as the girls do.
Boy undresses girl: every boy should know how to disrobe a girl properly, and make her feel great as her gorgeous body is revealed.
Girl undresses boy: be liberated, girls. How many boys, deep inside, want to be your beautiful hunks, your sex-objects. (And they also have their feminine side).
Boy and girl undress each other: great to alternate – each partner taking off each other’s garments in sequence (OK: the alternation can be made with 1 & 2).
Any couple fancying each other should first get a mutual eyeful at a workout centre or a swimming pool. Swimsuits proclaim beauty and allure, They have an air of mystery; they get the imagination going. Arms and legs moving in the water evoke the pulsing rhythms of love. I imagine beautiful girls doing the backstroke giving themselves to me in total love.
Great to go through a few wardrobe changes within one love session. Start off both comfortably dressed for preliminary necking and petting. Skin-tight gear is really uncomfortable for this, so try something looser. Girls: make sure the zip on your jeans us easy to handle, or wear a skirt that is easy to lift during petting. You must offer some token thigh to lead your boy on, and help clinch your control of him.
Great to start the ecstatic process while your French kisses are really hotting up on the sofa, getting longer, breathier, deeper. Girls: hold the crown of your boy’s head as he curls tongues with you; unbutton his shirt, feel down his torso and back, start to undo his trousers. Boys: put one arm around your girl’s waist; with the other, gently raise her skirt, feel her thighs, unbutton her blouse, feel her back, press her breasts inside her bra. don’t undo it yet. and if you can do all this while holding a kiss, it’s fabulous.
You’re probably lying on the sofa at this point. Now stand and face each other. Let skirt and trousers fall. Show yourselves to each other as if you were modelling. Have a really tight embrace in your underwear; keep it on for the moment. boys: now undo your girl’s bra, and do it gently, delicately – watch those flimsy shoulder straps. Girls: lift your arms in the air as he does it. You conquer him through the gesture of surrender.

Now – to build up more suspense, a wardrobe change. One of you stay in the bedroom or lounge to change, the other go into the bathroom.

Some wardrobe ideas – swimwear. This can be great, bringing the beach into the bedroom. Boys: build up a collection of boxer shorts and trunks of different shapes and sizes. don’t be shy: try them on in front of the mirror. See which you look/feel sexiest in. Girls are turned on by boxer shorts – but trunks, right proportion in the right light, can give that second wave.
Girls: try on your one-pieces, bikinis, lingerie and bodystockings in front of the mirror; get high on your auto-erotic kicks. See which is really you, at your strongest and sexiest. (I feel that 40s and 50s retro one-pieces still have the edge; interested to hear readers’ opinions. Or how about wearing swimsuit under lingerie? One extra layer gives more suspense, and a bit of see-through more still.)
Put on tee-shirts and shorts. Imagine you meet and fall for each other on the beach. Peel off each other’s shirts, tops and shorts – strip each other for glorious athletic action. (Girls: you may prefer a bathrobe to a tee-shirt; that’s fine.) It’s great to feel the adrenalin pushing against your costumes and against your partner’s body as you’re poised to plunge for the swim of love. do plenty of hand play around the edges of your suits. Boys: run your hands down in sweeping curves over your girl’s bra and cleavage, and down her back. Feel inside her bra if it’s not too tight. Do the same on her hips. Girl: feel your boy’s hips and thighs by the edge of his trunks.
Turn the lights down low as you finally remove your costumes. Good to stand up and do so before you finally go to bed. Boys: taking off a glamorous one-piece takes a steady hand; cultivate one. Girls: some sexy trunks have knotted waistbands; be practised with knots.

Other ideas:
Boys: uniforms and period gear. Girls: if you can get flowing ball gowns, that’s marvellous. It’s one of my favourite turn-ons to see a girl stepping out of a voluminous, or a skimpy, gown to show off a swimmer’s body. Schoolgirl gym slips are wonderful for petting.

A really good two-way strip can lift either/both of you up to a great androgynous feeling, break down your barriers with each other. So, macho woman and feminine man, get it together. Great, beautiful sex can free you from the constrictions of your gender categories.

Enrich your love lives with a good (un)dress sense.

Dreamtime Sensuality by David Russell

Many a dream can be realised with a little forethought. The characters in this quartet of stories are intelligent, sensitive and literary. They are also supremely voyeuristic and open-minded. Their intelligence is counterbalanced by inhibitions, which they can only lose by premeditated seduction scenarios, which relate intimately to their professional, creative and cultural lives. The great effort each couple puts into arranging a scenario seems to enhance the quality of the experience. A great source of inspiration for this and other works has been the novel The Girl Beneath the Lion by AndrĂ© Pieyre de Mandiargues.

Seductive Semaphore: Fashion Designer Bethesda and journalist Hector live opposite each other, with windows facing. They make initial contact through visible, provocative gestures. Soon afterwards, they get direct contact when Hector assists Bethesda with her folio. She invites him round to model for some of her fashion creations, and proceeds to seduce him. The seduction continues with a ritual visit to a sports centre, and then to a beach. They leave it open as to whether their relationship could ever become long-term.

The Heroine and the Author: Dreamer Hecate discovers she has a terminal illness. She wants to make the most of the time she has left by being celebrated in literature as a charismatic, legendary figure. She meets Ferdinand, a ghost writer, who is happy to undertake this massive project with her. In the process, she gets an idea of his physique through jogging and the fitness centre. Then there is a seduction scene inspired by the literary models of Sappho and Donne. Being ‘open-minded’, they make a pact for each one to go and have a sexual adventure – his hetero, hers lesbian. Their relationship is enhanced by this extra dimension.

Dreamtime Sensuality: Romona, highly literary and highly inhibited, goes to an exotic island location. She deeply desires a passionate encounter. At the Pension where she stays, she meets Stefano, who fulfils her requirements exactly. The proprietress of the Pension picks up on Romona’s shyness, and gives her reassurance, including some practice in the art of kissing. Romona orchestrates an elaborate beach seduction scenario, and they are both fulfilled. They never meet again, but their exchange of emails and text messages goes on indefinitely.

Dancing with Danger: Verona is a scriptwriter and Gareth an archaeologist. They both have ‘retreats’ near the coast, and discover their common interests. Verona contrives a half-seduction on a deserted beach, wearing 18th century retro gear – related to their common interests. After some further encounters, they give each other a ‘dare’ to go and have a really risky encounter with someone really dodgy. Gareth finds a young woman on the run. Verona has a rapturous encounter with someone who gets hauled in by the police, suspected of terrorism. She uses her charm on the interrogating police officer to extricate herself. So Verona and Gareth both meet up again, to tell their respective tales.


Hecate read some verses of Sappho, which she felt totally appropriate to his slender grace, so nearly androgynous. She quoted a phrase demanding his fixed, concentrated stare into her eyes. The eye contact was clinched Hecate’s introduction was a quote from her.

Ferdinand responded to the prompt; he knew what he had to do—gradually, at intervals, he removed his garments one by one as she breathily read the hypnotic, seductive phrases.

His garments came off with ease and grace, he obviously had some long-repressed desire to do this. At last, he stood before her, beautiful, naked, and slender. Somehow, his spirit prevailed over his earlier reticence, he shed his shyness with his clothing. Since she saw him in trunks, Hecate anticipated this moment with such relish. If the pool had been empty when they were there, she would have taken them off there, or in the shower. Perhaps something could happen, or even be premeditated in the future, on a deserted beach, secluded amid the dunes. 
She handed him a volume of the collected poems of John Donne. “Now, I think you know which one I want you to read me. Hmm…while we’ve been working together, I bet you’ve had some reveries of me undressing, you undressing me.”

“I have to admit that is so and I know which poem you mean, it’s Elegy Nineteen—To His Mistress Going to Bed.

“We really are on the same wavelength darling. I had learned of that poem as a young girl, with a desperate desire one day to enact it. Every word of it struck home as I disrobed alone, for years I yearned for that lovely partner to give me those instructions live.”

Ferdinand beamed, then quoted from near the end of the poem referring to the poet’s nakedness at the beginning of the action. Then he proceeded to read, with his lovely, hypnotic voice.
He really made Hecate’s girdle feel like Saturn’s rings As she undid her sash and cast it down, she felt her abdomen was bathed in heavenly light, visible only to spiritual eyes.
The request to remove her ‘breastplate’ gave her an etheric shudder. Taking off the brooch at the top of her dress felt like casting away a shield, affirming that strife and combat had been replaced by love. 
In response to the exhortation to unlace, she felt deliciously nervous as her fingers twitched on her zips and buttons.
As the gown went off following the next command, Hecate felt she had emerged from a perennial cocoon, that she was the sun liberated from the constricting veils of night.
As for a ‘coronet’, Hecate was only wearing a slide, but removing it certainly helped her locks flow freely.
It was great to feel liberated from footwear; earlier on her high heels had felt so sexy. But now her stockinged feet tingled with electric desire.
With her underwear, admittedly she found nylon, calico and silk sexier than linen, but the word, so sensually uttered, really relevant. (from The Heroine and the Author – Story 2)

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Friday, November 21, 2014

Lisabet's November Newsletter

Bride and Groom in Hayfield
Happy Thanksgiving!

Welcome to the autumn harvest issue of my newsletter. I've got information about new and upcoming releases, free reading, and a fabulous, easy contest!

New and Upcoming Releases

Since my last newsletter, I've released two books with Excessica, Bangkok Noir and Exposure. Both fall into the category of erotic suspense. Both have received rave reviews (see for example, here and here). Jim at BDSM Book Reviews wrote about Bangkok Noir:
This is definitely one of the most original D/s themed books I have read in a very long time. The exquisitely kinky and erotic BDSM play is just a bonus.

The new editions feature covers designed and implemented by yours truly. Although I'm not very skilled with graphics tools, I'm pretty happy with the results.

Bangkok Noir coverExposure cover

My other two major titles that were orphaned when I left Books We Love have also been contracted. My BDSM romantic erotica novel Nasty Business will be released by Fireborn Publishing in January. Totally Bound will republish my paranormal romance The Eyes of Bast in March. I've got a cover for the latter. Isn't it gorgeous?

The Eyes of Bast Cover

In addition to these single-author titles, I've got stories pending in high profile anthologies. My lesbian tale The Late Show will be featured in Best Lesbian Erotica 2015, editing by the legendary Laura Antoniou. And I have two stories in this year's Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica (Volume 13), edited by Maxim Jakubowski: Layover (F/m BDSM) and Limits: A Love Story (M/f BDSM). You know me - I like variety!

You can find excerpts from all of these tales on my books and coming soon pages.

Looking a bit further into the future, I'm planning a series of BDSM short story books with Excessica, called D & S Duos. Each book will have two BDSM-themed stories, back to back, about 10,000 words. Just the right thing for a quick read before bed...! The first one should be out just after the new year. I'm also putting together a book length collection of lesbian erotica and erotic romance, which will include some brand new content. Finally - well, not finally, of course, because there is always another story in the wings - I'm hoping to get back to work on The Gazillionaire and the Virgin, my turnabout erotic romance. More on all this in my next newsletter.

Contests and Other News

I've updated my free reading page with the first chapter of a new erotic romance serial, Unveiled. I started this book, in which the heroine is a belly dancer, years ago, then put it aside while I worked on other projects. I'm hoping that making a commitment by putting it up on my website will encourage me to finish it! (By the way, you might want to check out the photo of me in my belly dancing costume - taken many years ago!)

Speaking of free reading, have you checked out my M/M BDSM vampire story Renfield's Lament in the Erotica Readers & Writers Association gallery? Brand new, first time published. Warning: it does not have a happy ending.

I've decided to reinstate my monthly newsletter contest. This month, I'm running a giveaway called What's Your Fantasy?. You could win a custom story, written especially for you, that features your favorite erotic fantasy - as well as several gift certificates!

Here's how it works. Send me an email at contest [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com with the subject line "My Fantasy". In the body of the email, briefly describe the story you'd most like to read. Keep it short, no more than one or two sentences.

I will read your fantasies and pick the one that most inspires me, then write that story, dedicated to you! If I pick your fantasy, I will also send you a $5 Totally Bound gift voucher. In addition, assuming I get at least 10 entries, I will draw a random winner from among the remaining submissions and give that reader a $10 Totally Bound gift certificate. You have until December first to send in your fantasies. But why not do it now, before you forget?

For my November VIP readers contest, I'll be giving away another copy of The Ingredients of Bliss. Only people on my email list are eligible. If you want to join, just send me email at at lisabet [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com with the subject line "VIP subscription" and I'll get you signed up right away. I'll announce the contest rules on the mailing list next week!

Lisabet's Pick of the Month
My November pick of the month is The Velvet Lair, the blog of my prolific colleague Suz de Mello. Suz loves to travel, as I do. She write sexy erotica and erotic romance, often with a BDSM flavor. In short, she's a woman after my own heart. She posts almost every day, either about her own stuff or that of her guests. Visit The Velvet Lair for fun and passion!