Candlelight glinted on polished steel – #MFRWsteam #MMRomance #PNR #Halloween

Welcome to the October edition of the MFRW Steam Hop. Today we give erotic romance authors the opportunity to share their visions.

Since Halloween is imminent, I’ve challenged the MFRW authors to showcase work that is both sexy and spooky. My excerpt today, from my MM paranormal romance At the Margins of Madness, is pretty extreme along both dimensions.

You’ve been warned...!

Blurb

Both power and love can lead to madness

Nineteen year old Kyle sees visions of disasters, visions that tear his world apart. Everyone assumes that he is schizophrenic, but Rob, the cop who picks him up off the street, knows better.

Rob's own experience has taught him that psychic powers are real, and potentially devastating. Since his telepathic sister's brutal murder, Rob wants nothing to do with "gifted" individuals like Kyle. Yet he can't deny his attraction to the beautiful, tortured young man – an attraction that appears to be mutual.

When a brilliant, sadistic practitioner of the black arts lures Kyle into his clutches, Rob faces the possibility that once again he may lose the person he loves most to the forces of darkness.

Excerpt (Explicit)

By the time he reached the I-290 overpass, he was staggering. He tripped and slammed into a wizened black woman toting her groceries, knocking her hat onto the sidewalk. “Ah, sorry, ma’am,” he slurred, giggling as he tried to replace the absurd pillbox on her gray curls.

“Crazy honky bum! Get your filthy hands off me!”

“Um, really, I apologize…” But she was already gone. He fell against the railing, still chuckling, and leaned over to watch the cars whizz by, blurs of bright color. He tilted the bottle to his lips, then realized it was already empty. “Fuck!” His drunken hilarity evaporated. He held the useless thing over the highway and released it. The clash of its shattering, the squeal of brakes as cars tried to avoid the spray of broken glass, gave him an odd satisfaction. Maybe for once I’ll cause the disaster, instead of being a helpless spectator.

As though conjured by his thought, the vision appeared full blown, wiping out the world. There were no screams. Instead soft music droned in the background, flutes and deep horns that rose and fell in a hypnotic rhythm. There were no flames, though the flickering patterns on the walls suggested candles were the main source of illumination. Kyle felt slick, cold stone against his naked back. He lay prone, unable to move; when he tried, coarse rope bit into his wrists and ankles.

Chill tongues of fear licked at his heart. He was trapped, bound, arms and legs spread-eagled on a surface that felt like marble. He could see the ceiling, rough-hewn beams hung with cobwebs, and the walls, piled slabs of stone joined with grimy mortar, but little else. He smelled earth, mould, damp cement.

His limbs felt heavy, as if he were drugged. There was different kind of heaviness in his groin, a familiar throbbing that told him he had a hard-on. Pleasure swelled in his cock with each beat of his pulse.

What was going on? Had he fallen in with some kind of pervert? He knew he was taking a chance every time he agreed to suck someone’s cock, but he needed the money for booze and the occasional burger. Had his luck finally run out?

A face hovered over him, youthful features crowned by shining blond hair. The man’s eyes were an icy blue that sent new chills racing up Kyle’s spine. His sensual lips curved into a broad smile that held no warmth but which revealed pearly, perfect teeth.

“Ah, Kyle! You’re awake. Excellent. The ritual requires that you be conscious throughout.”

“Ritual?” Kyle’s voice reached his ears as though coming from far away.

The man did not answer Kyle’s implied question. “My robe, Jez,” he commanded. A slight brunette wearing a miniskirt stepped into Kyle’s field of view long enough to slip the scarlet satin robe off the man’s shoulders. He was slender but fit, with swelling pectorals and corded biceps, all furred with golden down. He mounted some sort of steps until he was standing on the platform where Kyle was bound, straddling Kyle’s helpless form.

The young man’s cock was as scarlet as his robe. It arched up between his thighs, rooted in blond curls, gleaming wetly in the flickering candles. Despite his fear, Kyle grew more excited. His own cock twitched and his balls tightened.

“You’re beautiful, Kyle,” crooned the surfer-boy looming over him. Kyle was sure that he’d never seen this man before, yet somehow that face, that mocking smile, was familiar. “I’m going to enjoy this. Perhaps you will, too.”

He stepped forward until he was even with Kyle’s hips, then crouched into a squat just above Kyle’s throbbing erection. The head brushed against the man’s furry buttocks. Kyle’s pelvis gave an involuntary jerk as pleasure shimmered through him.

As Kyle’s cock pushed upward, Golden-hair pressed down, embedding Kyle’s rod in his greased hole. The sudden heat and tightness sent cum rushing up Kyle’s shaft. Golden-hair reached behind his back and pinched Kyle’s scrotum, hard enough to momentarily erase the pleasure.

“Don’t come yet, boy.” The young man’s lips thinned to a determined line. Clearly, he was trying to maintain his own control. “I’ll make you come, but only at the right time. Jez?”

Kyle felt the woman stirring beside him. The other man’s eyes held him transfixed like a rabbit in the headlights of a car. Candlelight glinted on polished steel as Golden-hair raised the long knife the woman had given him.

He laid the point against Kyle’s breastbone, just pricking the skin. Then he tightened the muscles in his buttocks, squeezing Kyle inside his hot channel. Kyle couldn’t help himself. He arched up, burying his cock more deeply in the man’s ass.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature: https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/917-at-the-margins-of-madness-a-tale-of-power-and-love/

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/B09QQG683R/

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/B09QQG683R

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/at-the-margins-of-madness-lisabet-sarai/1140911192?ean=2940165754531

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1127718

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/at-the-margins-of-madness-a-tale-of-power-and-love

Apple Books: https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1606236845

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60179575-at-the-margins-of-madness

Audio Book

https://www.amazon.com/At-Margins-Madness-Tale-Power/dp/B09ZZTXJ3M/

https://www.audible.com/pd/At-the-Margins-of-Madness-Audiobook/B0B113TQNW

Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today's Steam Hop!

 

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One supernatural lover at a time was more than enough - #PNR #Halloween #Vampire #Shifter #MFRWHooks

It’s finally October, my favorite month, because it includes Halloween, my favorite holiday. In celebration, I’ll be posting Halloween-related or paranormal excerpts all month long.

Today I have a spooky bit from my MFM paranormal romance Fangs, Fur and the Single Girl. Enjoy! And don’t forget to visit the other authors participating in today’s MFRW Book Hooks blog hop.

Blurb

A tragically attractive vampire, a hunky wolf-man and a skeptical but susceptible career gal. What could possibly go wrong?

The city is full of fanatics who believe vampires are real. Bianca knows that’s a fantasy. Then a blond, blue-eyed blood drinker walks into her office and turns her universe upside down. Trying to escape from the vampire’s seductive influence, she collides with a wolf shifter whose mere presence inspires irresistible lust. How can Bianca resolve her feelings for her two mutually hostile lovers?

The Hook

Bianca didn’t want him in her apartment. For one thing, she was worried she’d jump him again. His scent was a drug, a perilous intoxicant that stripped away her humanity and turned her into a raging sexual animal.

For another, it was possible Jim was waiting for her. Given the mutual antipathy that characterized Jim’s and Zack’s first brief meeting, she didn’t want to risk another encounter.

Her condo probably reeked of sex. With his canine-enhanced senses, Zack would know the instant he stepped inside what she and Jim had been up to. And Jim—he’d catch the smell of blood from the seeping bite wound on her shoulder. He’d go crazy.

They stood on her stoop while she pretended to be looking for her key. Maybe she could distract him. “Let’s go find something to eat first,” she proposed. “I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

“Get something delivered,” her companion grunted. “You shouldn’t be outside. The moon’ll be rising in half an hour.”

“The moon?” She shuddered, despite the toasty coat she wore. “Do you mean—?”

“One bite’s probably not enough to change you,” he answered. “But moonlight strengthens the influence. Increases the risk. Now get inside. Or do I have to carry you?”

He looked both willing to and capable of fulfilling his threat. With a sigh, she unlocked the external door and led him up the two flights to her condo unit.

Please, let Jim be gone, she prayed silently, though she generally considered herself agnostic. One supernatural lover at a time was more than enough for her to manage.

But if there were any gods listening, they chose to ignore her. At the sound of the turning deadbolt, Jim bounded out from the bedroom, nude as when she’d left him.

“Bianca! Where have you been? I was so worried!”

He’d already gathered her into his arms and was nuzzling her hair when he noticed Zack out in the hall. His whole body stiffened, as though he’d been turned to marble. Something pricked her scalp. With a wordless hiss, he thrust her aside and took one step toward the open door, his lips curled back to expose vicious, snake-like fangs.

Zack snarled and sank into a crouch. A violet aura shimmered around his body. His hair whipped around his face as though caught in a hurricane. A beast-shaped shadow loomed behind him.

Sparks crackled up and down Bianca’s arms, stinging like a thousand tiny bees. A near-deafening buzz filled her ears. The air was so thick with menace, she could scarcely breathe. She wanted to run, but icy terror froze her in place. For the first time, she understood the danger she’d courted, letting these creatures into her life.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1508-fangs-fur-and-the-single-girl/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CXF755SM

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CXF755SM

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1540924

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fangs-fur-and-the-single-girl-lisabet-sarai/1145179250?ean=2940167695276

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/fangs-fur-and-the-single-girl

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6480071026

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/210320373-fangs-fur-and-the-single-girl

Add on Bookbub - https://www.bookbub.com/books/fangs-fur-and-the-single-girl-by-lisabet-sarai

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Review Tuesday: Sacred Exchange edited by Lisabet Sarai and S.F. Mayfair - #BDSM #Spirituality #ReviewTuesday

Sacred Exchange edited by Lisabet Sarai and S.F. Mayfair

Blue Moon Books, 2003

I don’t normally review my own books. Who would believe an author’s evaluation of her own work, after all? How could such a review be objective? (On the other hand, given the emotions any book can evoke, maybe there’s no such thing as an objective review.)

A few days ago, however, I picked up and began re-rereading an old copy of Sacred Exchange, the literary BDSM anthology I edited with fellow ERWA member S.F. (Seneca) Mayfair way back in 2003. This was my third published book, after Raw Silk and Incognito. I was deeply interested in dominance and submission, especially in the psychological and spiritual aspects. In conversations with Seneca, I discovered a kindred soul. Thus we set out to solicit contributions to a collection of erotic stories that would explore this (we felt) neglected aspect of BDSM.

I vividly remember the process of calling for submissions, reading and evaluating, bargaining with Seneca about which stories we should finally include. Back then, authors had to send manuscripts by snail mail. Likewise, contracts were handled in print. Creating the book took an incredible amount of work, but I was truly proud of the result.

Rereading the anthology more than twenty years later, I am still impressed by the creativity, variety and the heat of the stories it includes. Science fiction, fantasy, erotic romance, gritty realism, my own historical vignette – the book is a smorgasbord of D/s erotic visions, linked only by their focus beyond the physical trappings of BDSM. The gender diversity is pretty amazing too: there are straight, lesbian, gay and transgender tales, not to mention a few that defy categorization.

Some the contributors are still legendary in the erotica community: M. Christian, Simon Shepard, Mike Kimera, Portia da Costa. Many of the authors have faded out of sight, though, or at least out of my sight. Revisiting their visions was both pleasurable and humbling. Publishing this book felt like a powerful statement, yet twenty years later the volume is out of print and I’ve lost touch with most of the people who made it shine.

Among my favorite stories is Anne Tourney’s haunting and lyrical tale “Come for Me, Dark Man”:

Night after night she wakes from a parched sleep. She hears the whistle of a freight train rolling by, so close that its juddering motion rattles the windows. She has heard that imploring cry for so many years that it never wakes her any more, but tonight the call has changed. Could that be her song, warped into the train’s low moan? Her heart pounds, her breath catches in her mouth, and her fingers stroke the sweaty groove between her breasts. Her flesh feels unfamiliar. Her heart is offbeat.

Another standout is Netzach Stern’s sweet, hot femdom story “Martin’s Reward”.

Her soft, wood-brown eyes are warm as she drops my genitals and raises her foot over them. The threat of sole, the threat of heel. Implied and stark. I twitch to painful hardness, which she presses until it points horizontally, her bootsole over it. A heated glance passes between us. I look down at my cock again, her sole like a hawk’s shadow over a rabbit.

Then there’s Stefan Aries’ remarkably honest “Fuckwise”, about an online Dom poseur who is challenged to become the real thing. A dark, complicated, messy story, it still carries the hint of redemption in the trust his submissive offers to him.

Mel Smith’s “Living in Hell” chronicles the painful, ecstatic bond between a powerful alien and the lowly human who turns out to be his fated mate. “Sentry” by Tom Piccirilli offers a remarkable inner monologue from a body guard suffering to protect the female rock star to whom he is devoted. Andrea Dale’s fantasy “Return to Wildwood” imagines the traditional Green Man as a tricky dominant with a penchant for bondage.

There’s something for everyone in this book. Still, it never sold well. It could be that readers wanted more whips and chains, less devotion or angst. Or perhaps the book was too unpredictable. Indeed, one of the two reviews on Amazon (sad, right?) complains about the diversity – “a target market covering everyone in the world”.

Oh well. I was amazed by what Seneca and I had brought to life when the book was first published. I might be even prouder now than I was when I first held a copy in my hands.