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Wednesday, June 19, 2024

Undeniably male, exquisitely desirable – #PrideMonth #Bisexual #MFRWHooks

Monsoon Fever banner

Welcome to this week’s MFRW Book Hooks blog hop.

Pride is about diversity and acceptance—not just accepting the relationships that other people create, but accepting one’s own diverse desires as well.

I’ve penned some titles that are pure MM or FF, but the majority of my books include bisexuality in some form. In fact it seems natural to be attracted to both men and women, because in my view, desire is fundamentally emotional rather than physical. In my own experience, I’ve found I’m attracted to a person, not a body. That person might be male, female, or something else more complicated; it’s ultimately not important, though this will affect the way desire is expressed.

Today I have a snippet from my multicultural romance Monsoon Fever, which provides an example. Jon is not gay, yet he’s attracted to the Indian lawyer who visits his tea plantation. In this excerpt, he’s having a difficult time accepting that.

Blurb

When a charismatic Indian lawyer arrives at their remote Assamese tea plantation, he tempts a married couple with forbidden carnal delights.

In the early years of their marriage, Priscilla and Jonathan eagerly indulged their physical desires, but now that passion has dwindled. Childlessness and the horrors of the Great War have taken a toll on their relationship. Though Priscilla still aches for Jon’s touch, he seems preoccupied with settling his father’s affairs in India, so they can sell the plantation they’ve inherited and return to England.

Anil Kumar served as solicitor to Jon’s father. Arriving unannounced, drenched by a monsoon deluge, he enchants both Priscilla and Jon with his beauty, poise and wisdom. In separate incidents, each of them succumbs to Anil's lustful attentions. Will the illicit cravings excited by the handsome Indian be the final stroke that destroys their marriage? Or the route to saving it? 

 

Monsoon Fever cover
 

The Hook

Jonathan threw open the louvered shutters in the bedroom that his father had converted to his office and library. The rain had trailed off during lunch, and now the early afternoon sunshine streamed in. The fresh-washed air smelled of the earth—mown grass, ripe fruit, animal dung. From here, he could see the tea fields a mile away, the rolling land brilliant emerald after its drenching. He caught a hint of movement, a rippling across the hillside, as if the bushes were rustling in the breeze. But the air was still. It was his small army of workers, filing along the ranks of tea plants, carefully plucking only the top buds and leaves.

Why did he care so much about this harvest? His London factories produced machinery, the engines and boilers that were powering the new century. He was no farmer. Somehow, though, it was important that he complete this task, bring this final harvest to a successful conclusion before selling the plantation. A last symbolic effort to win his father’s approval, perhaps? But his father had never really disapproved of Jonathan. He had merely been absent when Jonathan needed him.

A knock drew him away from the scene at the window. “Come in,” Jonathan called. Kumar glided in on sandaled feet, his casual native costume an odd contrast with the heavy lawyer’s satchel that he set on the desk.

Am I disturbing you?”

No, not at all, Please, make yourself comfortable,” Jon gestured at an armchair at the side of the desk.

Kumar seated himself, and began pulling folios of papers out of his case. He did look comfortable, perfectly at ease despite his attire. Jon shrugged off the impractical jacket he had donned for lunch and hung it on his chair back. No cause for formality here.

So. You said my father had other business interests. I’m a bit surprised. This plantation was all that he ever mentioned in his letters.”

The plantation was his home, the focus of his life. He loved it here. However, he also owned a jute factory, a cotton mill, and several apartment buildings in Calcutta, as well as a pilgrim’s hostel in Varanasi.”

A pilgrim’s hostel?”

Your father went to bathe in the Ganges every year.”

You can’t be serious! I’ve heard that it’s unbelievably filthy…”

Kumar smiled gently. “Earthly concerns such as hygiene are not a concern of those seeking enlightenment.”

Jon snorted his astonishment. “Enlightenment? My father? He was a businessman, not a mystic. ”

The two are not necessarily mutually exclusive.” Kumar laid a long-fingered hand on Jon’s arm. “India changes people, Jon. It reveals their true natures.”

Jon found himself caught in the Indian’s beneficent gaze. The man’s eyes drew him in more deeply. He searched Kumar’s face, trying to understand the odd stirring in his heart and in his loins. The man was bloody beautiful, that was the truth of it, with that noble brow, those liquid brown eyes, that ripe mouth. His height, his broad shoulders, and the muscled curve of his bare forearm were undeniably male, but in his face Jon found something feminine, something exquisitely desirable.

With an effort, Jon tore his eyes away and forced his mind back to business. He reached for a handful of papers. “Let me see the details.”

Kumar laid out the first folio in front of Jon. “Here are the accounts for the jute company. As you can see, it has been a moderately profitable enterprise. Last year it cleared forty percent more than in 1917.”

The Indian leaned over to point out the relevant figures. Jon couldn’t help but notice the man’s scent, some spicy, aromatic perfume that made him momentarily light-headed. The scent was somehow familiar. It had the strange and alarming effect of causing Jon’s penis to harden.

Well—the war…” Jon struggled to retain his composure. “I’m sure that the international situation…”

Of course, you’re right,” Kumar agreed smoothly. If he noticed Jon’s discomfiture, he did not show it. “Do you want to see the detailed revenue and expense statements?”

No, no, I’ll take them and look at them later. Just give me the ownership transfer documents for now.”

Kumar leaned closer, leafing through the folio until he reached the last page. Jon shrunk away, afraid that the native’s body would brush against his own, terrified of his own response if it did.

Monsoon Fever teaser

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/4070-monsoon-fever/

Amazon UShttps://www.amazon.com/dp/B0994WZP4B

Amazon UKhttps://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0994WZP4B

Smashwordshttps://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1093764

Barnes and Noblehttps://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/monsoon-fever-lisabet-sarai/1139827649?ean=2940164960315

Kobohttps://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/monsoon-fever-a-multicultural-romance

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58554176-monsoon-fever

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today's Book Hooks!



3 comments:

Tina Donahue said...

Love the cover art, Lisabet - did you do it? As you already know, I love your books. :)

Janet Lane Walters said...

Great excerpt showing cultural difference.

Kayelle Allen said...

This was such a great scene, and the setting is described to perfection.

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