What if the government stole your libido? – #ScienceFiction #Erotica #Giveaway

As I was setting up guest blog posts this coming week, I noticed that they were all science fiction. So I decided to make this be Science Fiction Week at Beyond Romance, to treat you to bits from some of my scifi titles.

Today I’ve got a brief excerpt from my story The Antidote. The story itself is quite explicit; this excerpt is PG.

Meanwhile – if we’re going to celebrate, we need a prize, right? So – I’ll give a $10 bookstore certificate to a randomly selected person who comments on my posts this week (between Sunday the 12^th and Saturday the 18^th). Please be sure to include your email, though. Otherwise, if you win, I might not be able to find you!

Blurb

What if the government stole your libido? What would you do to get it back?

Sixty years after the Plague, few remember the mass deaths, the riots and the massacres triggered by the sexually-transmitted disease. Still, most people accept the Council’s mysterious libido-suppression technology as necessary to prevent a resurgence of the deadly virus. Monthly procreative sex, government-supported and hormone-enhanced, is enough to satisfy them.

Lena’s different. Though she loves her husband Jeff, she yearns to experience the thrill of forbidden lust, to know what it feels like to couple with a stranger. Rumors speak of an antidote that liberates the libido from the Council’s thrall. Denied from birth, Lena is willing to risk everything—her marriage, her freedom, even her life—for one taste of unbridled desire.

Excerpt

“Yeah, I can get it—well, I can tell you where to get it. But it’s expensive.”

Merle and I huddled together on the bench in the 52^nd story roof garden of the New Sears Building where we worked. Even here, talking was risky. There were certainly cameras, but mikes were less likely out in the open.

“I’ve been saving. How much do you think it will cost?”

Merle named a figure four times what I had squirreled away.

“Gads, Merle! It’s not gold!”

“No, it’s more valuable than gold. What do you expect? People will pay almost anything for the forbidden.”

I blinked and looked away, not wanting her to see my incipient tears. After a few deep breaths, I thought I could continue the conversation without embarrassing myself. My friend wasn’t fooled.

“You really want this, don’t you, Lena?”

“More than anything.” It was true. I’d been experimenting on my own trying to reverse the effects of the government’s anti-sex interventions, with no success at all.

No one knew exactly how the drugs were delivered. I went two days eating nothing, drinking only rainwater gathered on our unit’s balcony. The fact that Jeff traveled so much for his job had made it easier. I just waited until he was away on one of his trips. Then, physically weak but determined, I hacked through the net filters to one of the most notorious underground porn sites, hosted, according to Merle, in Kazakhstan.

Nothing. I felt nothing. I watched the contortions of the naked bodies, the penetrations and the climaxes, and felt no desire, only a vague, painful sense of loss.

I was second generation post-Plague. I knew the history, but I didn’t remember the Troubles: the millions of deaths, the riots, the massacres of homosexuals and prostitutes. None of it seemed real to me.

When the Council had introduced its libido-suppression program to stem the spread of the virus, most people were enthusiastically in favor. Now it had become second nature. Society ran perfectly smoothly without the lubricant of lust. But I resented it. I wanted to know what I was missing.

Not sex. Of course Jeff and I had sex, once a month when our fertility booster package arrived. And our coupling was fabulous, as the Council intended, thanks to the hormone supplements and the stimulants and the fact that Jeff and I had been matched for genetic and temperamental compatibility long before we’d even met. When he was inside me, it felt as though we were a single being. I loved my husband deeply. That wasn’t what this was about.

I didn’t want societally-sanctioned, procreationally-focused, conjugal sex. I wanted to fuck strangers. Nobody used that word anymore, but that’s what I craved. I wanted sex for its own sake, wild, extreme, dangerous. Sex with men—more than one man. Maybe even sex with women. And for that, I needed the antidote.

It was strange. My fantasies did not arouse me physically—the drugs prevented that—but I still continued to rehearse scenarios in my mind. I prodded the empty place in my psyche like someone would poke her tongue into the socket of a pulled tooth.

Buy Links

Amazon US - http://www.amazon.com/dp/B013ZS2678

Amazon UK - http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B013ZS2678

Smashwords - https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/569511

Barnes and Noble - https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-antidote-lisabet-sarai/1122682231?ean=2940152362305

Kobo - https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-antidote-10

Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26342541-the-antidote

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