Saturday, August 31, 2013

Lisabet's August News

Challenge To Him cover

New and Upcoming Releases

Yes, it's still August, though just barely. I know many of your are celebrating the Labor Day holiday this weekend, so I'll just run quickly through my latest news.

First of all, my historical BDSM story Challenge To Him is available now as a single title from Total-E-Bound. Furthermore, if you buy it within the next few weeks, you can get a 10% discount. Why wait? TEB can send the book directly to your Kindle or Nook, just like the big guys.

Not sure if this is the book for you? You can read a sizzling excerpt here.

Meanwhile, the Tied to the Billionaire anthology where the story first appeared is a huge hit. If you can't get enough of sexy dominants with money, power and charisma, this is the book for you. Congratulations to Beth, who won first prize (a $50 GC) in our "Meet the Billionaires" blog tour, and Natasha, the runner up, who bagged a six-pack of our books. If you didn't get the chance to read my interview with my billionaire hero Andrew MacIntyre, you can read it here.

Since my last newsletter, Coming Together: Girll on Girl, which includes my story Sundae, Bloody Sundae, has hit the virtual shelves. This charity anthology (available here as well as on Amazon and Barnes and Noble) benefits the National Center for Lesbian Rights. If you believe that people should have the right to love whomever they choose regardless of gender - if you enjoy steamy and romantic lesbian fiction - get yourself a copy of this great book!

Total-E-Bound has accepted my paranormal BDSM novella Rough Weather. Unfortunately the book won't be out until next January, but you can read a snippet here in the meantime.

And the brilliant D.L. King is including my M/F BDSM tale Muse in her upcoming anthology Slave Girls, due out sometime in 2014. I've posted an excerpt from that story, too.

Other News

My free story this month, Trespass has the distinction of being the most-often-rejected story I've ever written. I submitted it to four different editors before it was finally accepted (for the Coming Together: By Hand anthology). I think the rejections were due to the fact that the story is rather dark. However, it is also intensely romantic. How could it not be, based as it is on Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet? In this story, I also consider the way obscenity is culturally defined. What if showing a naked hand was more taboo than displaying bare breasts or buttocks?

I've also posted a brand-new poem called The Line. I haven't written poetry in years, but Ashley Lister's monthly writing challenge over at the ERWA blog has inspired me.

Tomorrow, or thereabouts, Victoria Blisse is due to announce the winners of her amazing Smut Al Fresco event. You still have twenty four hours or so to comment, and maybe win a Kindle, plus 50 British pounds worth of TEB credits! If you haven't done so already, check out my post, "The Allure of Extramural Lust"

Speaking of prizes, I've decided that I need to reward those of you who are on my private mailing list.
Starting this month, I will do at least one giveaway per month that is exclusive to individuals who have given me permission to send them emails. Watch your inbox. I'll announce the contest and you'll have forty eight hours to respond. Free books, gift certicates, swag - who knows what prizes I'll come up with!

If you're not on my email list but would like to be, just send an email to contest [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com with the subject line "Add Me", from the email you want added. I'll do the first giveaway next week!


Congratulations to Joy, who won my "Series" contest. I got quite a few interesting answers to my questions. The majority of individuals who responded told me they prefer series where each book focuses on a different set of characters, but where characters from the previous book also appear. A vivid world that feels real, and a lot of emotional twists and turns were also cited as key features. Anyway, thanks to all of you. You've given me a lot to think about.

For my August contest, I want to know what you think about the current BDSM craze. I've been writing BDSM for more than a decade - why is it suddenly so popular? Do you personally enjoy BDSM stories? Why or why not? Send your answers in an email to contest [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com, with the subject line "BDSM". The prize is a two-pack of print books from my backlist - BDSM or not, depending on your preference!

Lisabet's Pick of the Month

My pick of the month for August is The Erotica Bibliophile (, an ongoing research project on vintage erotica and erotic art published between the 18th and early 20th centuries. Great images, fascinating information, with a very classy presentation. Highly recommended!

Friday, August 30, 2013

A Few Lines from.... Angel De Amor

A Few Lines from Her Betrayal His Lies by Angel De Amor

She moved to her dresser, opened the bottle, and rubbed the lotion all over her body, paying special attention to his two favorite places to nibble - her neck and legs. The butterscotch skin, brown eyes, and petite body that were reflected in the mirror as she massaged her legs made her feel extra sexy. She stood and did a little sensual dance as she opened her underwear drawer, selected a striking red lace thong, and slipped it up her legs.
Some teeny devil must have been  sitting on her shoulder urging her on. "Yeah, this thong is all the clothes
you're going to need."  She pulled her four-inch red pumps out the closet and slid them on her feet. "Sorry, babies," she told her aching feet, "but I gotta look good tonight."

She snatched her wallet out of her purse off the nightstand and her Blackberry off the bed as she walked to the living room closet. Wrapping up in the long, black, fox fur coat would protect her from the chilly November weather. 

Please stop back next week for a few lines from Connie Vines

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Wine, Cheese, Conversation and Caring

My step-mom Nan died last week of cancer, at the age of 84. This wasn't unexpected (cancer deaths are rarely a surprise in this day and age). I had been dreading that call telling me she was gone for several months. What does surprise me is how strongly I still feel that she's here. I look at the clock, calculating the time on the East Coast, and think about picking up the phone, before I remember that she won't answer any more. I see something interesting on the street, and make a mental note to share it with her the next time we talk. I especially remember her when I'm cooking - she loved to cook and we often exchanged recipes, or tackled a family dinner together.

Even when she'd been hospitalized for weeks, she'd always begin our phone calls by asking how I was doing. That's just the sort of person she was. Honestly interested in others. And supremely sociable. Before she got sick, it was often difficult to reach her by telephone, because her line was always busy. She could chat for half an hour with a friend or family member and never notice.

Although she was not a blood relative, I was at least as close to her as I'd been to my own mother (who died when I was in my twenties). Nan was married to my dad for nearly forty years, and they loved to hang out with my husband and me. One of Nan's favorite activities was to bring out a cheese and cracker plate and a bottle of wine, say five or six in the afternoon, and just sit around sharing great conversations. More than once we ate so much cheese that we decided to skip dinner altogether. 

I have so many happy memories of our times together. She had three children of her own, but she always gave my siblings and me as much love and support as she did her own kids. She made us all one family.

Nan wasn't a flashy person. You might not have picked her out in the crowd. She had several successful careers but she always deferred to my father intellectually (which annoyed the heck out of me). Aside from food, books were one of the many things that drew us together. There was never any problem figuring out what she'd like for Christmas or her birthday.

I guess I'm rambling - wandering through my recollections of our years together. I loved her so much - it hurts to realize I'll never tell her that again. And yet, the fact of that love has tremendous value by itself. When I learned she had been put on hospice, I felt as though someone had stabbed me in the chest. I had hoped to spend more time with her, to say goodbye, but at that point, although I made reservations to return to the U.S. as quickly as I could, I had a sinking conviction I'd never see her again. And then it hit me - I should be grateful for a love so powerful that it could generate such pain. Far better to know the hurt that comes from caring, than to remain untouched and alone.

I never told her about my writing. She wasn't a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but I had a suspicion that my work would embarrass her, and even worse, make her feel guilty for being embarrassed. Sure, I wanted to brag, to show her the books with my name on the cover. That would have made me happy. However, it would have put her in conflict, I think.

I've decided that I'm going to dedicate my current WIP to her. Of course she'll never know, but it's particularly appropriate since my main character is a chef. And every time I see the cover, or reread the tale, I'll remember her smile as she raised her glass of chardonnay, and the warm glow of basking in her love.


I'm not going to broadcast or announce this. However, if you read this post and have a story of your own to share, about love or about loss, please leave a comment. For every comment I receive, .
I plan to donate $1 to the American Cancer Society, in Nan's memory

Thanks for reading.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

AWOL Inspiration - If Found, Please Return!

By Michaela Rhua (Guest Blogger)

Thank you for having me on your blog Lisabet. I've been having a look around and there are a few books on my TBR list!

Today, the sun is shining and all is well with the world. The Summer holidays are going well, with just over a week to go before we return to school or work. I love this time off, a good few weeks to rest, relax and chill out with friends and family. Life is good, I've just had a new book out (more of that later), yesterday was spent with a bunch of women who I am privileged to call friends and I face a day of chocolates, catch up TV and anything else that I desire to do – the family are away for the day so it's just me!

I love days like this. Okay, so enough of the 'life is fantastic.'

On the other hand – my muse has gone AWOL ! In fact this whole summer, when I have had the time and no day job, no inspiration has hit, nothing, nadda! Why on earth is this? Just when I face an expanse of time ahead of me, when I can write – I find I can't – nothing comes out, no words flow and no character's grab my attention. It is so frustrating! The desire to write is there but not the motivation. Is this something new?

Nope, no sir. This is the usual way for me (big sigh)

However, I can feel something emerging…there are sparks of light ahead, which might illuminate the way ahead. I am getting that itch to write, something is brewing and that fog around the creative side of my brain that I try to use when writing is thinning out. The trouble is, I will be returning to work, and I know I am going to be busy, busy, busy! I wish I was like those fabulous other writers who seem to be able to get down to it (writing! Get your minds out of the gutter) in amongst a multitude of other things. But we are all different and each person has their own way of doing things. I am me…not anyone else so my life won't ebb and flow in the same way as others.

Inspiration strikes when it does and it cannot be ordered or demanded. So what have I learned during my limited time writing…
  • Don't be disappointed that you are not like others – be you.
  • Find your flow and go with it.
  • When your muse had gone AWOL – read, watch films, and just relax.
  • Don't wait, just live life and enjoy the everyday stuff.
That last comment could easily apply to Louisa – Lou as she likes to be called. Life has not been easy; after all being into women in a shifter community is a no-no. Her father was a wise man, who understood life would be harder for her, so built her a small cabin on the edges of the community. Love has not come her way either. Yes, she has had short term relationships, but what she wants is that special person. Lou just gets on with her life and lives in hope that maybe one day everything will fall into place. Then one full moon night she catches a scent and…

Well I will leave you with the blurb and an excerpt.

Mated Forever by Michaela Rhua
The full moon is always a time for danger and mating. This month it brings the scent of Louisa's mate. Jorie is on the run and in grave danger. Being rescued by Louisa brings safety and a new temptation. As the girls act on their feelings, and passion overtakes them, they are unaware of the danger surrounding them both. When Jorie is kidnapped, it's a race against time. Will Louisa be able to save her mate, or will the past and all its secrets destroy them before they even have a chance at forever?

"I am so sorry to draw you into all this Lou, I … I didn't mean for it to get this far." Jorie put down the hot mug on the table next to the sofa.
"It's okay. I asked you to stay, you didn't force this on me, so chill," Lou said. "Anyway, I'm going to take a shower."
Lou got up from the sofa and disappeared into the bedroom.
Damn it! Jorie kicked herself mentally. Why did I not just do what I wanted to, just touch her. She knew exactly how she felt about Lou. She wanted her as a lover and mate. Things were so complicated now. Sleeping with Malachi had been a colossal error. Every time she looked into Lou’s beautiful brown eyes something melted inside.
The noise of the shower interrupted her thoughts. Jorie fisted her hands and gritted her teeth. Then, with decisive steps, she walked through the bedroom to the bathroom. The door was ajar, almost inviting her in. Once inside, the hot steam fogged her vision. Her eyes adjusted quickly, and she made out water cascading over golden brown skin. Rivulets journeyed their way down the perfect body, which was all curves. Jorie wanted to stroke Lou’s round ass, and kiss it all over. She stretched out her hands. Her skin tightened, and heat radiated throughout her body. She knew exactly what was happening. Her wolf begged to be let out to play with her mate.
Breathing deeply, Jorie stepped forward. The steam cleared at little more and Lou turned around. Jorie stared at Lou's round breasts topped off with dark chocolate nipples, and licked her lips. Lou glanced up. Her eyes deepened then a ring of copper formed around her pupils. Lou continued to soap her body. Jorie watched Lou's hand circle down to her bare pussy with the sponge. Her own pussy ached with need. Lou dropped the sponge and leaned her body into the water, washing the suds off her skin. Jorie wanted to touch her so badly.
Lou turned off the water, and stepped out of the shower. Jorie took a deep breath, trying to get her wolf under control. She wanted Lou in human form, to delight in her body. In her wolf form it would be fucking. Her animal instincts would take over like it had with Malachi. There had been little tenderness. When he’d realized she was willing, it became all about taking her quickly. The act had been painful and cold. Where she’d wanted to take it slow, this would be about making love. She wanted to experience love, an all-consuming love. Tender and soft, not hard and fast.
"You're so beautiful, Lou. I want you so much. I've never felt this way before," Jorie whispered.
"I want you, too, Jorie. Only if you’re sure?" Lou gave her a tentative smile.
"Yes, so sure, like never before," Jorie said.
Jorie unbuttoned her shirt. Lou came closer still, helping Jorie to release her arms. Warm hands massaged her breasts. Jorie untwisted Lou's hair and let those dark curls loose. They were silky smooth, and Jorie massaged Lou's head then cupped her face.
Their lips met. Heat surged through Jorie, the air hot and heavy. Lou pushed her toward the bedroom. Jorie delved deeply into Lou's mouth with her tongue, tasting and licking. Her beast growled with delight. This was good, this was right.
"You taste so good, Lou," she said.
Lou pushed her onto the bed then stood over her. A flicker of hesitation registered in her eyes. Jorie undid her jeans, ridding herself of any clothing to reassure Lou this was what she wanted. Words were irrelevant. Lou seemed like watching her strip because intensity deepened her gaze. Once bare, Jorie sat up and held out her hand. Nothing happened. Lou looked at the offered hand. Afraid Lou would back away, Jorie slowly opened her legs. She wasn’t fully bare as Lou, but she hoped Lou would understand.
"I can't wait, Jorie, I have to taste you." Lou licked her lips.
She watched Lou lower her head and inhale the scent of her arousal. Lou growled then pounced on her.
"Get ready, honey." Lou winked.

Buy Links:

Author Bio
Michaela Rhua always dreamed of writing but this never happened until she met the lovely group of ladies known as UCW. Their passion for writing and encouragement inspired her to see if she could do it too. Now she loves writing!

She has teenage children and a husband, who also keep her busy. However, it is whilst travelling into work that she has time to create her characters and imagine other places in which they exist as her world skims by the window. Conversations overheard often lead to the birth of new ideas that she scribbles down in her trusty notebook.

Michaela is a multi-published author with Breathless Press, Evernight Publishing and a self-published anthology with authors from The Nuthouse Scribblers.

Feel Free to Stalk here:

Tuesday, August 27, 2013

A Kiss to Die For

[It's sneak peek time again. Today I'm featuring a romantic suspense called A Kiss to Die For, by Gail Barrett. This is part of Gail's Book Blast blog tour. See the end of the post for details about her prize! ~ Lisabet]


Homeless Army veteran Sullivan Turner is nobody’s hero. His failure to save his fallen comrades proved that. So when a gutsy social worker gets caught in a drug gang’s crosshairs, he knows he’s the last man who can safeguard her and the pregnant teenagers she’s trying to protect.

Former debutant Haley Barnes learned the hard way how to survive. After witnessing a cold-blooded murder, the terrified teenaged runaway changed her identity and hid to save her life. But when the killer tracks her down and attacks the girls in the homeless shelter she now runs, Haley knows the time has come to stand and fight. But to bring down the powerful killer she must confront her high-society family’s darkest secrets -- and convince wounded warrior Sully Turner he’s the hero she believes.


“Then you’ll do what they say? You’ll go to a safe house?”

“No. Not yet. I can’t,” she added when he hissed. “I have to try to get answers. If my parents won’t talk, if I don’t learn anything at the fundraiser, then I’ll reconsider my plan. But I have to give it a shot.”

Frustrated, he gripped the back of his neck. He was starting to realize how she’d survived the streets -- she was too damned stubborn to quit. “Then at least take a cop as your bodyguard.”

“No. It’s either you or no one. I won’t change my mind about that. I can’t. I’ll never figure out who’s involved if I tip him off.”

His jaw clenched. Dread mingled with desperation at the thought of her taking on the killer alone. “That’s not fair.”

A sad smile curved her lips. “Don’t worry, Sully. I don’t blame you for not wanting to do this. I’ve already involved you enough.”

Suddenly feeling cornered, Sully turned to the window and scowled out at the city lights. She’d just given him an out. He should leave right now while he still could. But he couldn’t let her go to that fundraiser alone. He’d never forgive himself if she got killed.

But how could he protect her? He was the worst possible man for the job. He swung around to face her again. “For God’s sakes, Haley. Why can’t you understand this? I’m not the man you need.”

“But you’re the one I want.”

About Gail

Gail Barrett is the award-winning author of thirteen romantic suspense novels. A former RITA® and Daphne finalist, Gail has received the Book Buyer’s Best Award, the Holt Medallion, the Booksellers Best, The National Readers’ Choice Award, and numerous other awards. She lives with her husband in Western Maryland. For more information, visit her website:

Buy Links:

Gail will be awarding a $25 Amazon gift certificate and either a signed print copy (US ONLY) or an electronic copy of Fatal Exposure (Buried Secrets book one) to one randomly drawn commenter during this tour and her other Super Book Blast on August 21st.
For details on the other stops today, just go here:

Monday, August 26, 2013

Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho...

It's Tuesday, which means it's off to work I go...

If you've ever noticed that my presence on-line is very irregular, there's a reason. My job tends to have days when I leave in the morning and don't get back until very late at night. I can't do anything related to Lisabet while I'm at work, not only because I'm pretty much busy non-stop, but also because that would be career suicide...

Some days I work at home, and then I can interleave my Lisabet activities with more socially acceptable tasks. Right now, though, Tuesdays and Wednesdays are pretty much lost days as far as writing and marketing are concerned. (This week, Thursday too.)

If you send me email and I don't reply for a couple of days, that's probably because you hit me during my busy period. My apologies.

Anyway, it's early Tuesday morning here, so I've got to run...!

See you at the mines!

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Sunday Snog #91: Fire in the Blood

Greetings, readers!

I took a trip back in time looking for my snog today, looking for a juicy kiss to share with you. Today's offering is from my 2010 M/M/F vampire ménage, Fire in the Blood.

Maddy and Troy hope that a carefree vacation in tropical Jamaica will re-ignite the passion in their five year relationship. On a scenic mountain trail ride, 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 too 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 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 holds 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.

After you've finished with my snog, head on back to Blisse Kiss Central for more delicious kisses. And get ready for Victoria's huge 100th Sunday Snog blog hop, starting on the 22nd of September. Dozens of authors, dozens of prizes - just for enjoying our kisses!

By the time she got back to the hotel, it was past noon. The manager of the stable looked more relieved to see his horse than its rider. With a combination of pleas and threats, Maddy succeeded in convincing him to give her a lift back to the resort. She knocked on the door of the room, not wanting to shock Troy too badly. Nevertheless, he gave a little yelp when he saw her standing there, filthy, sweaty and smeared with dried blood.

“Maddy! Oh God, you’re okay!” He held her tightly to his chest, as though he was afraid she’d vanish. “I was so worried. We tried to follow your horse, but we couldn’t see anything in the storm… The guide wouldn’t go into the woods after it got dark, no matter how much I offered to pay. The police just smiled and had me fill in a report, but other than that, they haven’t done a damned thing. ‘She’ll come back,’ they kept saying. ‘No problem, man.’”

“Well, I guess in some sense they were right.” Maddy buried her face in Troy’s neck, breathing his fresh, clean scent. His body was warm and hard against hers. She relaxed into his strength as he stroked her hair and murmured endearments. He raised her face to his and started to nibble at her bruised lips.

He felt so incredibly good. Her nipples peaked under her shirt. Moisture gathered between her thighs. She rubbed her chest against his. The friction sent sparks skittering from her breasts down to her sex. He captured her in a deep kiss. She forced her tongue into his mouth, relishing the familiar peppermint flavour of his toothpaste.

Troy groaned, responding to her sudden ardour. She groped blindly between his legs, seeking the swelling bulk she knew she’d find there. He was hard already, his cock straining against his zipper. With dexterity borne of practice, she unbuttoned his waistband and opened his fly. His eager erection sprang out into her waiting hand.

She stroked up and down his rigid shaft, swirling her thumb across the slippery bulb each time she reached the tip. He moaned into her mouth, jerking back and forth inside her circling fingers. He seemed bigger and harder than normal. His velvet-soft skin sheathed a pillar of stone.

Maddy broke the kiss. Still holding Troy’s penis, she pulled her jersey over her head with the other hand. The fabric caught for a moment on her distended nipples. Pleasure arced through her. Liquid welled up in her cunt.

“I want you.” Her voice was husky with lust. “Now.” Using his cock like a handle, she dragged him to the bed and pushed him down onto his back. He lay there, his cock bobbing, obviously fascinated by her uncommon passion, as she struggled to remove her shorts.

The sweat-damp fabric stuck to her skin. Her clit beat inside the crotch like a fiery heart. Frustrated and impatient, she tugged hard. The garment tore away from her hips and fluttered to the floor, a useless rag.

Maddy didn’t care. She crawled onto the bed and straddled Troy’s rampant cock. With a throaty growl, she sank down onto his body, impaling herself. Troy arched towards her, meeting her halfway. Hands on his shoulders, she forced him back against the pillow. “Let—me—ride—you,” she managed to gasp, driving his cock deeper into her cunt with each word. She clenched his swollen stalk and ground her clit against his pubic bone. Fierce pleasure raged through her.

Troy reached for her breasts, moulding their fullness with both hands. He brushed his fingertips across her taut nipples. “Harder,” she growled between clenched teeth as she bounced up and down on his cock. Her lover obeyed, capturing and pinching the tight knots between his thumb and forefinger. She moaned her encouragement. He dug his fingernails into her flesh. The pain added a high note to the symphony of sensation ringing through her body.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Crutches and Ring Splints? What's That Got to Do with Romance?

By Tempeste O'Riley (Guest Blogger)

Good Morning, everyone. I’m thrilled to be here at Lisabet’s blog. Today I’m going to talk a little about the ring splints you see on the books cover and the crutches from the blurb (see below, :c) ). You see, my knowledge of EDS, the genetic disorder James has, is not just from internet research. Nor is my knowledge of forearm crutch. I too have EDS, use crutches to walk, and honestly should have the splints on a couple of fingers—similar to what you see on the cover. Did I mention how much I love the cover Reese Dante created for my guys?

Anyway, the point is that I know what it’s like to be seen for your assistive aids instead of for whom you are and that is one of James’s biggest problems. He hates that people see his “sticks” instead of him. He’s given up on finding his prince and on love for himself in general.

Seth Burns however is not a man that cares about such trivialities. If he sees something in you he likes, then that’s it. Period. The catch is convincing James that he’s serious and that he’ll not turn into another monster... like his previous partners have.

So what do ring splints and forearm crutches have to do with romance? Everything! We all have hurts and fears, James’s are just a little more noticeable than most. Besides, why can’t this physically challenged but wonderful man get his HEA? In Designs of Desire you get to travel along with James as he learns that his disabilities are not what define him... his heart is.

I hope I’ve interested you in my first story with Dreamspinner Press. James and Seth can’t wait to share their story with you (warning, they love the readers to visit their bedroom too, lol)!

Designs of Desire  
by Tempeste O’Riley
M/M Erotic BDSM/Kink Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: July 29th 2013
Length: Novel / 200 pages


Add to: Goodreads

Artist James Bryant has forearm crutches in every color from rainbow for fun to sleek black for business. He even has a pair with more paint splatters than metal. After his family’s rejection and abuse from a man he thought loved him, James only just gets through the day by painting. He lives in constant fear that he’s not worthy of anything, let alone love.
As CEO of his company, Carrington Enterprises, Seth Burns is a take-charge kind of guy, and he is instantly smitten by the artist helping with his newest project. When he witnesses James suffer a panic attack, a protective instinct he never knew he had kicks in. He truly believes nothing is unobtainable—including James—if he’s willing to put in the time and effort.
James is shy and confused by Seth’s interest in him as a person. With Seth’s support, can he work through his fears to finally find the true love he deserves, or will someone finally land the crushing blow he won’t survive?


James gestured to the chair across the conference table and hoped Seth would sit. He hated to be stood over. Seth smiled and settled into the chair indicated. “Now, what can I do for you, sir?”

“We, Carrington Enterprises, are beginning a new venture and hope you can help with designs. Companies I can manage; design and draw, not so much.”

James nodded at Seth’s pause.

“Let me start by explaining the project you will brand. We’re opening a new hotel chain. This will be a little different than your usual hotel, though. Each site will be more like a large bed and breakfast, but they will cater to the GLBT community. It’s often an issue when a couple wants to vacation. They have to consider the area, the hotel, the other patrons even if they want to do something as simple as hold hands. That is, if they don’t want to be met with hate or possible violence.”

James wasn’t sure which impressed him more, the wonderful idea behind the hotel or the deep, commanding voice that instilled confidence in everything he said.

Obviously unaware of James’s internal dialog, Seth continued his spiel. “With our liberal policies and views, we have decided to make a place where judgment doesn’t exist. At least, that’s the theory.”

God, that voice! He shivered.

“Also, each site will have a club, bar, or restaurant attached. So, this will be an ongoing project, not a one-shot deal.” When finished with his little speech, Seth seemed inordinately pleased with the idea.

No wonder Brian gave me the account. He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud until Seth glowered at him.

“Excuse me?” Seth snapped. “I was assured you have no personal issues or biases that might hinder your ability to provide the needed work. Was I incorrectly informed?”

“No. No, sir. I apologize for my comment. It was out of line,” James said in a rush, trying to smooth over the obvious irritation his thoughtless words had caused.

“Are you able to do the branding or should I continue elsewhere?” Seth demanded.

“You misunderstand, Mr. Burns. I had wondered why I was given your account, considering I’m not one of the senior designers and your account would normally be reserved for one of them. Now that I hear what the project is, I understand why I was chosen.” He knew he was babbling but he couldn’t help it. “You see, I’m the only openly gay designer here and my family runs a small bed and breakfast. This project is perfect. In fact, once we have the branding set up, I’m sure I can point you in the right direction for some specialized marketing. Magazines, newspapers, websites, etcetera. We will help you with all of that, as well.” James tried to restrain the extent of his excitement over the project, but was unsure how successful he was. He didn’t want to seem flippant or inexperienced after admitting he was a junior designer with Skye Designs.

Seth raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Excited, are we? Carl said you were the man for the job. I guess he was right if enthusiasm counts. I have a full write-up of what we need and what we do and do not want to incorporate into the brand.” His smile fell and he became all business again. “This is an upscale getaway, not a high-priced bathhouse.”

“Understood, sir. I think the idea will work in areas with a large enough population of GLBT and open-minded people.” His hands itched to begin sketching and planning.

“Good. Once you’ve read over everything and start your designing, I want you to visit the site we chose for the first hotel. It’s here in Milwaukee, so it shouldn’t be too far for you. Would you be ready by Friday?” At James’s accord, Seth opened his briefcase and began pulling out folders and large manila envelopes and setting them in front of James. He paused, peered up at James, and blinked hard. “I should call someone to carry these things for you,” he mumbled, glancing at the items and toward James’s crutches. “You can’t fit all this in your bag.”

James pinched the bridge of his nose while counting to ten in his head. Why do they always see the sticks instead of me? “Mr. Burns.”

“Seth, please,” he interrupted, giving James a soft smile.

“Seth, Chase acts as my assistant when needed. He will tend to anything I can’t transfer up to my office personally. There is no need to be concerned.”

A strange look flashed across Seth’s face, but his expression quickly returned to his previous in-command smile. “Very good then.”

They chatted a bit about ideas and plans before Seth shifted his coat sleeve back to check his watch. With a slight frown, he said, “Well, I need to head back to the office. I will leave this all in your fine hands, James. Please call me here.” He pulled out his business card and wrote something on the back. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

Seth held out his hand. James flexed his fingers and clasped the offering. He knew this was for work, but somehow it felt different this time. Warm and strong, the grip shot tingles up his arm. Seth seemed to hold on a little longer than necessary for business needs. It had been so long since a man touched him, at least without violence or pain. James shook off the thought he might be interested. Beautiful men like Seth didn’t waste their time on guys like him. Besides, he wasn’t certain he wanted to go down such a painful road again.

James stood in the doorway, watching Seth saunter out the main doors, wishing for something, though not really sure what.


Tempeste is giving away several copies of Designs of Desire as part of her promo tour. Just use the Rafflecopter link below to enter.

About the Author:
Tempeste O’Riley is an out and proud omnisexual / bi-woman whose best friend growing up had the courage to do what she couldn’t–defy the hate and come out. He has been her hero ever since.
Tempe is a hopeless romantic that loves strong relationships and happily-ever-afters. Though new to writing M/M, she has done many things in her life, though writing has always drawn her back–no matter what else life has thrown her way. She counts her friends, family, and Muse as her greatest blessings in life. She lives in Wisconsin with her children, reading, writing, and enjoying life.
Tempe is also a proud member of Romance Writers of America® and Rainbow Romance Writers. Learn more about Tempeste and her writing at

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Friday, August 23, 2013

A Few Lines from ... Kathy Fischer-Brown

A Few Lines from Winter Fire by Kathy Fischer-Brown

"Get back!" he shouted. "The ice won't hold you!"

She whirled around in alarm.

And in that split second, he saw her eyes. Those startled doe's eyes. Zara Grey!

In the next instant, a crack—like a musket shot—echoed through the ravine. She reeled as the ice heaved up beneath her amid an angry surge of black water. And then, her face frozen in a look of surprise, her mouth open in a semblance of a silent scream, she disappeared through the widening breach.

His gaze fixed on the roiling chasm, Ethan hurled himself down the slope. She surfaced—flailing arms and legs, and gasping desperately for air—churning up the black water into an icy froth. She grasped at the splinters of ice.

"Keep your head up!"

Racing along the bank, he ripped off his deerskin jacket and hurled it, along with his rifle and belt into the snow. If she went under again, she'd be trapped. Already the current had taken her, sweeping her like a bobbing cork toward the opposite bank where the ice was thicker.

"Keep your head up!"

But the frenzied movement of her arms had slowed. She gasped at the water along with the air. She could barely keep herself afloat. As if she had made a conscious choice to surrender herself to a stronger power, he saw the spirit drain out of her. An eerie calm settled over her eyes as her gaze met his, then she slipped under again without a struggle.

Without stopping to think, Ethan tore off his shirt and moccasins, and dove through the opening.

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Stop back next week for A Few Lines from…Angel de' Amor

Keep 'Em Guessing!

A couple of days ago I got a fabulous review for Rajasthani Moon from Thistledown at Long and Short Reviews.

Of course I was delighted that she liked the book. But what really pleased me is the fact that my multi-genre story really kept her guessing:

"This book really took me far and wide. At first you have a kidnapping fantasy with rip roaring sex that honestly left me breathless. Then you have a ménage with kinky toys that made me crunch ice. ( A lot). Then you add a paranormal twist and I couldn’t decide what I enjoyed more. It all worked. Every part of it."

This was exactly what I was trying to achieve in writing Rajasthani Moon.  The biggest problem with writing romance, in my opinion, is the predictability. Of course the reader knows the story will end happily. Plus there are so many sub-genres in romance, each one with its own conventions. When readers encounter the distinctive signals for one of these sub-genres, they remember other tales in the same category and think they already know how things will turn out.

I hate that! What's the fun of reading if there are no surprises, no suspense? I understand that when readers encounter a genre they enjoy, they want more of the same - but hopefully not exactly the same!

It's my goal to make readers sit up and think, "Wow, that's different!"  I could write cookie-cutter stories in any of the genres where I work, but I really don't want to do that. Whenever I sit down to write for a specific call for submissions, my first thought is, How can I twist this to make it original and surprising?

For instance, in my latest release, Challenge to Him, the call asked for M/F BDSM stories in which the hero is a billionaire and the couple ends up married. Now I know there are more billionaires out there in the world today than ever before, but somehow they didn't interest me. Instead I decided to write a historical billionaire. My story is set in the Gilded Age, when industrialists like John D. Rockefeller, Andrew Carnegie, and Jacob Astor were making tons of money out of their factories, railroads and banks. I'd been to the Newport mansions built by these guys. If you want to see opulence...well, let's just say that no contemporary penthouse can compare, at least not in my opinion! My hero Andrew MacIntyre is a businessman born into this world of consummate luxury. His partner Olivia comes from a very different background.

I wanted my story to stand out, and I think it does.

There's a negative side to my quest for surprise and originality. Some readers get annoyed when an author breaks away from the conventions. I apologize, but those readers will have to go somewhere else. (And of course they do...) I'd probably be more popular if I stuck to tried and true formulas, but I just can't force myself to do that.

To be honest, I never know myself what I'm going to write next. So I keep myself guessing!

By the way, Challenge to Him is now available as a single title from Total-E-Bound - at a 10% discount until the general release date! Just click here.

You can read an extremely sexy excerpt here at Beyond Romance - and enter to win some great prizes!

Wednesday, August 21, 2013


By Robin Glasser (Guest Blogger)

Remember the children’s table at family events? Lately it seems as though all the adults I used to turn a green-eyed gaze upon are now dropping dead. Case in point: One of my favorite cousins, who lived in a luxurious beach house in Malibu, CA, kicked the diamond-encrusted bucket. Before her departure, she and her stunning son had recently visited Croatia. Harriet always traveled first-class and Ben was always elated to join her.

While on vacation (she didn’t need to work so life was a constant holiday), Harriet began waxing poetic about her own funeral. Did she have a premonition, perhaps? She announced she wanted a FUNeral (spelling’s the same~accent on fun) so that people attending would celebrate her life. Who knew that less than a month later her words would become true?

Her husband graciously offered me a plane ticket (economy not first-class) and I went west. The affair was held at the local yacht club where the widower docks his very big boat. People voiced their thoughts about Harriet—all spectacular of course. Afterward, everyone gathered on the club’s patio to hors d’oeuvre and drink. The sunset was glorious and the FUNeral was among the best I’ve ever attended.

I’d been thinking along these lines myself and told my closest compadres that when my time is up, I want to have a ‘gone away’ party. After all, if you get the most you can out of life—why not celebrate its end?

The following forms of entertainment below offer invaluable insights into life and death:

Departures (2008) won the 2009 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film (Japan)

I Am (2010) directed by Tom Shadyac won the Humanitas Prize (2012)

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak won a slew of book awards

What usually coincides with death? Why cemeteries, of course. And whenever I travel, I try to visit them. In fact, I wrote a piece about a very famous one. Go to this link: to answer the question: Who has the shiniest crotch in Père Lachaise? Tweet your answer to or email me at robinglasser [at]

The first three people with the right answer will win an ebook copy of MY LIFE AS A CONCUBINEthe lively account of a savvy, New York City woman, never married, not looking to be, who suddenly falls in love with a Frenchman. After several enchanting years together, Jean-Loup tells her that he must return to France. She is in a quandary—stay on the isle of Manhattan where she has work, friends and speaks the lingo or depart for Paris with the utterly adorable frog prince? There is one teensy-weensy problem—Jean-Loup hasn’t asked her to go with him. When he finally pops the question, it certainly isn’t the one she expects.


Saturday night I arrived promptly, dressed to resurrect roadkill. Jean-Loup ushered me into his apartment as if I'd been spun from platinum and took me on le grand tour. He had spent ten years of his life in Africa and Indonesia and had the artifacts to prove it. I "ooooohed" and "aaaahhhhed" enthusiastically. He offered me a cocktail, then another one. The liquor was flowing, along with my libido. Jean-Loup swept me up in his arms, carried me to the bedroom, and that was it.

And "it" was fan-fucking-tastic! The Frenchman didn't bother to unbutton his shirt. He just pulled the tail ends from his trousers, grabbed them with both hands and ripped the cloth in half. Buttons scattered in a bright sprinkle. Jean-Loup literally jumped out of his pants and underwear. Although slender, his body was hard-muscled and beautifully formed. Pulling me into his arms, the Frenchman kissed me deeply, expertly. When his hand reached for my zipper, I gently pushed him away.

"Go lie down. I want you to watch me."

As he walked toward the bed, I kept my eyes on his smooth, tight buns. The play of muscles beneath that creamy patch of skin was a real turn-on. Jean-Loup reclined on the quilt. Sinuously, I moved toward him, stopping just out of his reach and his erection.

"Let me tell you what I'm going to do to you, Jean-Loup."

My voice was soft—husky with sex. Slow as an escargot, I began to lower the zipper of my snug, silk dress. With a little bump and grind, I shimmied out of its black bonds. I hadn't bothered with a bra. Clad only in garter belt, stockings and stilettos, I removed the combs from my hair, tossed my head, and let the raven cloud settle about my shoulders. I stared into his eyes—their intensity scorched my body like a firebrand. It took all I had to restrain myself from jumping his bones. Instead, I released a stocking from its garters, then stepped out of my heels. Placing a foot atop his nightstand, I slowed peeled the black mesh down my leg.

Skimming the whispery strip over his body, I asked, "Like the feel of it, Jean-Loup? Imagine my lips following the same course."

As I began to wind the wisp round his pulsating prick, he grabbed me, pulling me down beside him. Our lips came together in a searing kiss. Our tongues danced a passionate pas de deux. Tearing his mouth from mine, the Frenchman captured a swollen nipple. Two pairs of hands stroked, squeezed, explored. The fierce heat of desire burned throughout my body. I couldn't wait any longer and impaled myself upon his cock.

I lost all track of time until morning when, awakened by a lion roaring in my ear (snores from my "king"), I faced reality—runny mascara. If you've been there before, you know the score. I made a hasty retreat, figuring in my befuddled and besotted mind that this had been an incredible one-night-stand.

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About Robin

Recovering copywriter, Robin Glasser has written for a variety of magazines ranging from Readers' Digest to Penthouse Letters, where she wrote a column called "The Red Hot Woman." Her poetry has been published inUpstairs at Durocand The Riverside Poetry Review. Ms. Glasser's novel, My Life as a Concubine, is based on her experiences in Paris or as she likes to call it, The City of Merde, and has been re-released from Smashwords and is available in all virtual bookstores. Robin guarantees Men at Work, her fully-illustrated book of poetry, will put twinkles in your eyes and sparkles in your pants. Don't forget to watch her fast-paced peepshows based on these tongue & cheeky poems at You can get a copy from robinglasser [at] yahoo [dot] com Her latest novel, The Brain Exchange, is available at Smashwords, Amazon, et al. She now reads at various venues in New York.

Guaranteed to put a twinkle in your eyes & sparkles in your pants