tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27765628065692369972024-03-17T23:03:55.563-04:00Beyond RomanceMusings and meditations from author Lisabet SaraiLisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.comBlogger4161125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-53694705567265281362024-03-15T03:00:00.007-04:002024-03-15T03:00:00.243-04:00His last gasp became a wail of despair… #Fantasy #MMRomance #Giveaway<p style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ4v5rrH1uV2j4NoTknrZsW96rUxyRb8HIEI2KSbmW0IczB7Lf75LvBcC6Uc1EAXOuxD-E6O664-hlmF86l2utnVZQnyaVfAEIVBjGdaQu9zxSzJWC0rVTpnDh4tRGM7f_JYNIsOyCmFLtReUbVhWk3aEaTV-5J3d9iJtbg1HrssTXwqLQYKnrzJ_1HOSQ/s600/TourBanner_Belega.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Belega tour banner" border="0" data-original-height="335" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ4v5rrH1uV2j4NoTknrZsW96rUxyRb8HIEI2KSbmW0IczB7Lf75LvBcC6Uc1EAXOuxD-E6O664-hlmF86l2utnVZQnyaVfAEIVBjGdaQu9zxSzJWC0rVTpnDh4tRGM7f_JYNIsOyCmFLtReUbVhWk3aEaTV-5J3d9iJtbg1HrssTXwqLQYKnrzJ_1HOSQ/s16000/TourBanner_Belega.gif" /></a></p><p></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
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</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><a name="_GoBack"></a>
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
Karthagans have regained their ancient powers of manipulating nature,
but at the price of madness. In their lust for control, they've
destroyed their island and most of their race. They come now to
Belega, where one of them, Camron, seeks domination over the known
world. The Mage has come from the northern continent of Sennia to
bring peace but finding his strength no match for the coming
struggle, he passes his abilities on to Natan, who only desires a
simple life.</span></span></p>
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</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;">Now
only Natan has the ability to stop Camron, but the personal cost is
more than he imagines. It is only with the combined strength of his
friends, his Karthagan lover, Kavi, and his deep desire to bring
lasting peace to the earth, that he finds the courage to overcome
Camron and restore balance to the world.</span></span></span></p>
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</p>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgnA-U65dCjd2QKp4TUHbErHdkAAuNOS1XibjbK6z0WWUiQbglnaSyo1ECRslv6tbSAyhwnNfxf_ivhxCWB4dSWm-aqmmnB9GQLOp4XH4rW74mZzcs9Npmf8xh3QGMFeYsDQCKSt7r4mCW2Mlk_vnkg8kTP6ZJ9W4zA8fuxMO02kh5fWys6EZFotqn5_d/s600/BookCover_Belega.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Belega book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgnA-U65dCjd2QKp4TUHbErHdkAAuNOS1XibjbK6z0WWUiQbglnaSyo1ECRslv6tbSAyhwnNfxf_ivhxCWB4dSWm-aqmmnB9GQLOp4XH4rW74mZzcs9Npmf8xh3QGMFeYsDQCKSt7r4mCW2Mlk_vnkg8kTP6ZJ9W4zA8fuxMO02kh5fWys6EZFotqn5_d/s16000/BookCover_Belega.jpg" /></a></b></span></span></div><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br />Exclusive
Excerpt</b></span></span></span><p></p>
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</p>
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<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kavi
stood at the mouth of the tunnel and stared into the blackness of the
cavern, stalling to let his pursuers catch up. </span></span>
</p>
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</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">They
were down there, all those bodies lying in the lake. Impressions of
horror and pain and black despair swirled in the freezing air on the
lake’s surface. </span></span>
</p>
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</p>
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<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
dropped to his knees, covering his face with shaking hands. “I’m
afraid, Gregor.” </span></span>
</p>
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</p>
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<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">His
broken whisper echoed through the chamber. A low wail rose from the
water in reply. Kavi searched for Gregor’s presence in his mind.
The Mage wasn’t there, though their connection had been strong
outside this terrible place. He was alone. The wail rose to a
shrieking wind, and Kavi opened his arms to gather it in. Pain struck
him first, confusion and a dawning horror as memories that weren’t
his crashed into his mind…</span></span></p>
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</p>
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<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Bodies
lay beneath him, his limbs growing numb where they lay in the icy
water of the lake. A heavy weight struck his back, and another,
driving the wind from his lungs. Wait! He was still alive! But voices
and gruff laughter drowned out his thoughts. Another body splashed in
front of him, and he found himself staring into the unseeing eyes of
Grahm, his dear friend, his broken body lying at an unnatural angle.
Another weight fell on him, crushing his face against the body
beneath him. He could no longer breathe, and his last gasp became a
wail of despair… </span></span>
</p>
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</p>
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<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
drowning man’s cry rose into the air and became part of the others
in the shrieking wind around Kavi. It gathered force, then roared
toward him. The small part of Kavi’s mind still lucid in the
swirling chaos became aware of swift footsteps approaching down the
passageway. It was time. He threw himself to the damp earth. The
furious wind roared over his head and swept into the tunnel. </span></span>
</p>
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</p>
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<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
pursuing men were plunged at once into the nightmare of decaying
bodies and screaming wraiths. Some went mad and slew themselves.
Others fled into the tunnels, babbling of dead faces trapped in their
minds. </span></span>
</p>
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</p>
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<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kavi
sobbed into his hands. Not all the grief was his. Anguished voices
had ridden that wind, full of anger and sadness. But the voices had
changed. A cry of such hope-filled gladness went up as the wind burst
into the tunnels, and he found himself weeping in joy without knowing
why. He rose shakily to his feet to mourn anew as the wisp of a
lonely wail floated from the darkness over the lake. That of a soul
left behind. </span></span>
</p>
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</p>
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<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
sent a tentative thought out, searching, but exhaustion claimed him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the loneliness and turned away.</span></span></p><span style="color: #990000;">
</span><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p><span style="color: #990000;">
</span><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>About
the Author</b></span></span></span></p>
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</p>
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<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQPWiXf7sYU5i0wmLWolMXO0Z13lbMS8F7Dsa6uZtmQRAfpHjRava2bp8mbKjy6bWSfse-pLACajKqF1-5qOMyuBSnsbeQG_kHjlhKokGaRmLtMDkGvkz_5_W6kSqLH1wPjH0zn3uWbImfRY9HglwyuWjy0qWeOKXt4GvLu-G7ZNY8En0z9sRJZfMYCmpy/s451/authorpic.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dianne Hartsock head shot" border="0" data-original-height="451" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQPWiXf7sYU5i0wmLWolMXO0Z13lbMS8F7Dsa6uZtmQRAfpHjRava2bp8mbKjy6bWSfse-pLACajKqF1-5qOMyuBSnsbeQG_kHjlhKokGaRmLtMDkGvkz_5_W6kSqLH1wPjH0zn3uWbImfRY9HglwyuWjy0qWeOKXt4GvLu-G7ZNY8En0z9sRJZfMYCmpy/s16000/authorpic.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Dianne
grew up in one of the older homes in the middle of Los Angeles, a
place of hardwood floors and secret closets and back staircases. A
house where ghosts lurk in the basement and the faces in the
paintings watch you walk up the front stairs. Rooms where you keep
the closet doors closed tight at night. It’s where her love of the
mysterious and wonderful came from. Dianne is the author of m/m
romance, paranormal/suspense, fantasy adventure, the occasional
thriller, and anything else that comes to mind.</span></span><p></p>
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</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
now lives in the beautiful Willamette Valley of Oregon with her
incredibly patient husband, who puts up with the endless hours she
spends hunched over the keyboard letting her characters play. Dianne
says Oregon’s raindrops are the perfect setting in which to write.
There’s something about being cooped up in the house with a fire
crackling on the hearth and a cup of hot coffee in her hands, which
kindles her imagination.</span></span></p>
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</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Currently,
Dianne works as a floral designer in a locally-owned gift shop. Which
is the perfect job for her. When not writing, she can express herself
through the rich colors and textures of flowers and foliage.</span></span></p>
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</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Blog:
<a href="https://diannehartsock.wordpress.com/">https://diannehartsock.wordpress.com/</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">FaceBook:
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/diannehartsock">https://www.facebook.com/diannehartsock</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">FaceBook
Author Page: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/diannehartsockbooks/">https://www.facebook.com/diannehartsockbooks/</a></span></span></p>
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<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Goodreads:
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4850270.Dianne_Hartsock">https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4850270.Dianne_Hartsock</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Instagram:
<a href="https://www.instagram.com/diannehartsock/">https://www.instagram.com/diannehartsock/</a></span></span></p>
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</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Dianne
Hartsock will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn
winner during the tour.</b></span></span></span></p>
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<br />
</p>
<a class="rcptr" data-raflid="28e4345f4836" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f4836/" id="rcwidget_yrn30n4j" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-47843465126476249802024-03-13T03:00:00.009-04:002024-03-13T03:00:00.133-04:00A perfectly honest line of work – #WomensHistoryMonth #Heroines #MFRWHooks<p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF2lmDzKNV6JgTsUQ7luKvxT3UpV4qzMl64q2WLs7ZdqpLbbTsNtAG4wHQZq-Te47GK3D9JsdpCbTLisALiG7ap600AvoihAmM2WI_BKS-QqNFJFyi6KST19A-ns9FB0Ig4A6EB6tQ9poN7AVp4pMEO0c3E7CM6rhdYoGmhrkDT97lCXSh-V-ArF3SCBpy/s600/ExposureBanner_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Exposure banner" border="0" data-original-height="265" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF2lmDzKNV6JgTsUQ7luKvxT3UpV4qzMl64q2WLs7ZdqpLbbTsNtAG4wHQZq-Te47GK3D9JsdpCbTLisALiG7ap600AvoihAmM2WI_BKS-QqNFJFyi6KST19A-ns9FB0Ig4A6EB6tQ9poN7AVp4pMEO0c3E7CM6rhdYoGmhrkDT97lCXSh-V-ArF3SCBpy/s16000/ExposureBanner_600.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><p></p><p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
continuing my observance of Women’s History Month by focusing on
some of my strongest and most assertive heroines. This week I have an
excerpt from <span style="color: #990000;"><i><b>Exposure</b></i></span>, an urban thriller with romantic
elements. Stella Xanathakeos, the protagonist, is more than capable
of standing up for herself. When I went looking for an excerpt,
though, I realized I had one that featured <b>two</b> extraordinary
women. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Enjoy!</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Sex,
blood and betrayal: it's all in a day's work.</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
strip for the fun of it. Don’t let anyone tell you different. It’s
not the money. I could make nearly as much working at the mill and
keep my clothes on, but then I’d have to suck up to the bosses. Up
on stage, I’m the one in charge, and I like it that way.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tony
Pinelli hired me for a private dance. I was determined to give him
his money’s worth. I didn’t expect to be caught in the cross-fire
of a double murder. When his widow shows up at my door, I know I’m
in way over my head. Now I’m everyone’s target. I can’t trust
anyone – not even the police detective who was sweet on me in high
school. My only chance at survival is to shift through the lies and
expose the truth.</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgCnXUhJ7mXrZ62PDI8mG8RtBkNXG7BjR-cxsJEDBGILbBnt4stCKMRl7HN4GVhp3nC5CgtIip4g45akGyNk-BeWwNgCcIZ_2d5K0cHUcy3FJ_iMIFvFLJp6jvRX8Bov4RPVJUGZWm6mqmkrBrUaA_JE0J-QYp9VobFPrk4dsBXp_ZEsxXUsWJ8J_3aZhq/s400/LogoBookHooks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Book Hooks logo" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgCnXUhJ7mXrZ62PDI8mG8RtBkNXG7BjR-cxsJEDBGILbBnt4stCKMRl7HN4GVhp3nC5CgtIip4g45akGyNk-BeWwNgCcIZ_2d5K0cHUcy3FJ_iMIFvFLJp6jvRX8Bov4RPVJUGZWm6mqmkrBrUaA_JE0J-QYp9VobFPrk4dsBXp_ZEsxXUsWJ8J_3aZhq/s16000/LogoBookHooks.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> </span></span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The
Hook</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Francesca
waits quietly while the media people rearrange themselves and adjust
their equipment. Then, when they’ve settled down, she waits a
moment longer, scanning the crowd, looking elegant and serious.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
have to admire her showmanship. By the time she begins to speak, she
has the attention of everyone, even the technicians squatting in the
doors of the mobile studio vans.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ladies
and gentlemen. Thank you for taking the time to join us on this raw
and stormy afternoon. I won’t keep you long.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">As
you all know, my husband Anthony Pinelli wanted to serve this city as
its mayor. Pittsburgh was his birthplace. It nurtured him, educated
him, made him wealthy and successful. It gave him opportunities and
benefits that he could not have found anywhere else. Tony Pinelli
wanted to give some of this back to the city he loved. That was his
most cherished dream.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tony’s
tragic death has shocked us all.” Francesca allows a quaver into
her voice. I’m impressed. She really knows how to work the crowd.
She pauses and swallows hard, as if resisting tears. Her voice is
calm and forceful when she continues. “As his wife and partner, I
am determined not to allow his dream to die with him. That is why,
today, I am announcing my own candidacy for the position of mayor. I
am determined that, even though Tony has left us, the next person to
preside over the administration of this fine city will be Mayor
Pinelli.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
crowd erupts in enthusiastic applause. I find that I’m clapping
myself. The hubbub continues for quite a while. Francesca holds up
her hand, asking for quiet.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">During
the remaining weeks of the campaign, I will be sharing with you my
vision—Tony’s vision—for this city. Assisting me with this task
will be my press secretary, Ms. Stella Xanathakeos. Like Tony and me,
Stella was born here. She knows the problems and the aspirations of
the ordinary people of Pittsburgh. She will help me to explain why a
vote for me is a vote for a bright, secure and prosperous future—for
all of us.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Francesca
turns to me. “Stella, would you like to say a few words?”
Expectantly, the cameras and microphones swing in my direction.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
not entirely unprepared. It was reasonable that Francesca would want
me to speak. Still, I have a moment of panic. I’m a performer, but
words are not my usual instrument.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
pause for a moment, take a deep breath and survey my audience. They
are mostly male, though I recognize the blonde bob and creamy
complexion of Teresa Kelly, the Channel 5 news anchor. I remind
myself that in this situation, my sexuality is a liability. Just in
time, I remember not to lick my lips. I clasp my hands in front of me
to keep them out of trouble.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ladies
and gentlemen, I’m proud to be standing here today, next to this
brave woman. When you lose someone you love, your first impulse is to
just give up. You want to crawl into a hole and die yourself. I know
this, from my own experience.” I pause, looking out over the
attentive faces. I hope that they’re not just paying attention to
my tits.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Francesca
Pinelli isn’t giving up, though. That’s not the sort of person
she is. She was her husband’s closest aide. She understands his
goals and his plans for Pittsburgh. And she’s determined to turn
those plans into reality, regardless of her personal pain.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">As
for me, I’m just an ordinary person. My mother died when I was six.
My father was an immigrant who worked hard all his life to support
me. He had to fight against discrimination, and sleazy bosses, and
government by the rich for the rich. I’ve worked hard, too. It’s
an uphill battle for most of us in this city. I believe that
Francesca Pinelli wants to make that battle easier. What’s more
important, I believe that she can.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
am startled when people begin to applaud. Francesca face wears a
broad smile as she steps forward and reclaims the attention of the
crowd.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
few questions, Ms. Pinelli!” shouts someone from the crowd. “Don’t
go yet!” echoes another voice. “Give us a chance!”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
crowd presses toward us, waving microphones in our faces and
effectively trapping us on the stairs. Somebody opens an oversized
umbrella and holds it over our heads.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Very
well, we can take a few questions. No more than five minutes, though,
or we’ll all be drenched.” A few more umbrellas open. The media
people push closer to hear us against the wind.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ms.
Pinelli.” The question comes from Terry Kelly. “Pittsburgh has a
reputation as a rough city. We’ve got the unions, the old industry
barons, the mob. Do you really think it can be run by a woman?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Francesca
stands erect, looking taller than usual. “Don’t you think, Ms.
Kelly, that it is time a woman had the chance to show what she can
do?” There is scattered applause. “You probably know that Tony
was a tough guy. He wouldn’t have chosen me as his partner if I
couldn’t be just as tough, when the need arose.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
skinny reporter in dark-rimmed glasses steps forward with his tape
recorder. “Graham White, your opponent, has headed the City Council
for more than five years. You have no political experience. Why
should the voters choose a novice like you, over a seasoned
politician like Mr. White?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Francesca
laughs. “No political experience? I was married to Tony Pinelli for
more than ten years, including his two terms on the council. Believe
me, I know about politics!” The audience chuckles. “On the other
hand, I don’t think this city needs a politician, as much as we
need a leader.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ms.
Xanathakeos!” I’m startled to hear my name. It’s coming from a
chubby, balding guy with an unpleasant grin. “I’m sure that we
all appreciated your homily to the working class. But isn’t it true
that for the past six years your primary employment has been as an
exotic dancer?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gasps
and snickers come from the audience. The questioner looks pleased
with himself. So there it is. I glance over at Francesca. She looks
perfectly calm and untroubled. I straighten my back, so that my tits
thrust out a bit, and look the bald guy in the eye. I know what you
like, I think to myself. You like to dress up in your wife’s
lingerie when she’s working the late shift. That’s what I see,
though it might be my own imagination. Still, as I stare at him, he
begins to squirm and finally has to look away.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Quite
true, Mister...?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Rostropovitch,”
he answers reluctantly.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You’ve
done your research, Mr. Rostropovitch. I am indeed an exotic dancer,
as you put it. A perfectly honest line of work, and believe me, not
an easy one. Do you have some problem with that?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Well,
it hardly seems appropriate for a mayoral candidate to be associating
with hookers.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Now
I am really annoyed. “A stripper is not a hooker, Mr.
Rostropovitch. In any case, I am what I said I am, a woman born and
bred in this city, who knows the problems working people here,
particularly women, face. I’m also a voter. I am definitely
qualified to give Ms. Pinelli advice and insight into these issues.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
give him a long cold stare that I hope makes him feel naked. “In
Francesca Pinelli’s Pittsburgh, everyone will be entitled to fair
treatment and respect—even reporters!”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWpwj0FzOeE4HkHk2ctMR__dHk3FcPzmxzKnHQiuBpFVkRAGwGSLYojVGZucSaJh7KzLc9L-hzVub4n4Ol1aviqyAl34TwtGxdXl3ablcjd03mjzsVMByItrExZZC8Z54MLA_DguKgXTvvMDdvHBZ9u8Hu9EYdyHnXFsfKKwmxe12CJA8XkHA3ADYmMwOL/s600/ExposureCover_400.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Exposure book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWpwj0FzOeE4HkHk2ctMR__dHk3FcPzmxzKnHQiuBpFVkRAGwGSLYojVGZucSaJh7KzLc9L-hzVub4n4Ol1aviqyAl34TwtGxdXl3ablcjd03mjzsVMByItrExZZC8Z54MLA_DguKgXTvvMDdvHBZ9u8Hu9EYdyHnXFsfKKwmxe12CJA8XkHA3ADYmMwOL/s16000/ExposureCover_400.jpg" /></a></b></span></span></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy
Links (Ebook)</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kinky
Literature:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/100-exposure-urban-erotic-noir/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/100-exposure-urban-erotic-noir/</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon
US: </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09V19MLDR"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09V19MLDR</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon
UK: </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09V19MLDR"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09V19MLDR</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Barnes
& Noble:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/exposure-lisabet-sarai/1141122670?ean=2940165803093"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/exposure-lisabet-sarai/1141122670?ean=2940165803093</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smashwords:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1136224"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1136224</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kobo:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/exposure-urban-erotic-noir"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/exposure-urban-erotic-noir</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Goodreads:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60574045-exposure"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60574045-exposure</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy
Links (Audio Book)</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.com/Exposure-An-Erotic-Murder-Mystery/dp/B079K627T3"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/Exposure-An-Erotic-Murder-Mystery/dp/B079K627T3</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Audible:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.audible.com/pd/Exposure-Audiobook/B079K2828J"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.audible.com/pd/Exposure-Audiobook/B079K2828J</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today's Book Hooks!</b></span></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></span></span>
</p>
<hr />
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-16654950199142114442024-03-12T03:00:00.001-04:002024-03-12T03:00:00.149-04:00Is escape even an option? #SciFi #AlternateReality #Giveaway @bl98<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFBdJBKs2WHkUj04kZu06gumVYZckszXrDXa5pLf27dFNTcxNJ02ajDyGi5jAASElD6BcCmNprtYODAnjxOduAv77VHW_iXyMyUNm_5aebVE9tTdDsAxPoIU3yFnXVX6Cg-il6XpfSvAkUI49pKrOD1V3c0iYWvA4U8kfWs8rYVRGXeUH2zH0iAxz_NzDq/s1200/TourBanner_The%20Cyborg's%20Crusade.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="670" data-original-width="1200" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFBdJBKs2WHkUj04kZu06gumVYZckszXrDXa5pLf27dFNTcxNJ02ajDyGi5jAASElD6BcCmNprtYODAnjxOduAv77VHW_iXyMyUNm_5aebVE9tTdDsAxPoIU3yFnXVX6Cg-il6XpfSvAkUI49pKrOD1V3c0iYWvA4U8kfWs8rYVRGXeUH2zH0iAxz_NzDq/w400-h223/TourBanner_The%20Cyborg's%20Crusade.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
<p></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>B</b><b>lurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><a name="_GoBack"></a>
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">How
did it come to this? My life used to be so simple. Back then, I hated
it; I found it boring. Let me tell you: boring’s good. Boring’s
great! I should’ve been thankful…</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;">It
was supposed to be a date like any other for James Hunter, a simple
convenience store clerk. Nothing more than watching a movie in the
town of Moncton. A place as unknown and unimportant as he considered
his own existence to be. And yet, while walking to a cinema, James
teleports to another world. There, a hostile crowd surrounds him,
including various mutants with strange deformities.</span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Before
he can even gather his wits or make a dash for it, a lone ally
presents herself in the form of a winged woman named Rose. An
important cultural figure in the country where James appeared, she
offers him both protection and a home.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;">Soon,
James learns that this new world is divided by a cold war. On one
side is Nirnivia, home to Rose. The other, Ostark, led by a
mysterious cyborg. James is unaware that the cyborg has him in his
crosshairs, thinking of him as the Deus Ex Machina that will end the
war in his favor.</span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">But,
the cyborg is far from the only potential threat to James. Soon after
his arrival, BRR, a terrorist organisation, kidnaps him.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">What
would a rogue group out for revenge seeking to turn the cold war hot
want with someone like James? Is there anyone also aware of this
other world who will try to find him? Or is he on his own? If so, how
is he supposed to escape? If that's even an option...</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
world whirled around James. Soon, all distinct shapes vanished,
superseded by a haze of colors. Shades of green, red and blue filled
his vision. An agonizing pain flared across his body, and James
screamed. His stomach floated up to his throat, while his intestines…
he preferred not to think about them. Then, at last, the forms
returned, though muddled. The sensation lasted only a few seconds,
but it brought James to his knees as he gagged and vomited on the
pavement. Once done, he wiped his mouth and coughed. Revolted screams
erupted around him.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">James
almost mumbled an apology for the mess, but then he realized: who was
yelling? He and Nadia stood alone and yet… wait, those dark figures
surrounding him on the ground… shadows? And over there, feet and
legs… where had these people come from?</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Perplexed,
James tried getting up, but he wobbled and fell. His new position
gave him a view of the trees he had scrutinized before the incident,
except they had morphed into a yellow brick building. James’s heart
raced and his body tensed. Trying to relax, he took a few deep
breaths through his nose and scowled. That stench, a mix of decayed
food, feces, and puke, permeated the air. Of course, his own actions
explained the last odor, but still, Moncton never smelled so bad. No
wonder, with all the garbage littering the street. However, the road
he’d strolled along had been so clean just moments ago.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">As
he pondered the change in scenery, James’s vision cleared. He took
it as a good sign and attempted to stand up again. Though he swayed,
he remained on his feet. Perhaps because of his movement, the
confused chatter around him intensified. Bronze-skinned people
glanced at each other and recoiled, a few pointing at him. James
scanned the crowd in search of Nadia. Unable to locate his lover, he
found his attention drawn to a stranger in the distance instead. The
man held a leash, but without a dog at the end. A pink glob of goo
replaced the expected canine. The horror waved its many tentacles,
sometimes caressing passersby. James gasped. Covered in perspiration
and shaking, he averted his gaze and spotted a young boy with a
miniature leg sticking out of his belly through a hole in his shirt.</span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;">
</span></p><span style="color: #990000;">
</span><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnOEpQ0nmGN1UsHuOYf-0zhoyPwrTzilVifzb4ngw_yP4bQB82B5vWcLHXd_Vx5mzMc3yjScSp8o_rWMwZytk_TmPVAlCmkPAU1lueMoZUQfn1ezN-OQsTgyBg0_avTUICGdgBMxJw5NS47Os-Drin2RF8IVT9hlEaYUA6m_ZfzaVbzfvZ2L6DtcmykBTU/s1280/The%20Cyborg's%20Crusade%20covers%20copy.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="800" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnOEpQ0nmGN1UsHuOYf-0zhoyPwrTzilVifzb4ngw_yP4bQB82B5vWcLHXd_Vx5mzMc3yjScSp8o_rWMwZytk_TmPVAlCmkPAU1lueMoZUQfn1ezN-OQsTgyBg0_avTUICGdgBMxJw5NS47Os-Drin2RF8IVT9hlEaYUA6m_ZfzaVbzfvZ2L6DtcmykBTU/w250-h400/The%20Cyborg's%20Crusade%20covers%20copy.gif" width="250" /></a></b></span></span></div><p></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>A</b><b>bout
the Author</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">So,
my name is Benoit Lanteigne and I’m a French Canadian (outside of
Quebec) who’s trying to write in English. That can be tricky. I’m
a computer programmer and I enjoy it. I see many inspiring writers
who hate their jobs and hope to quit someday, but that’s not my
case. Mostly, I’ve worked on websites and web applications. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Back
in school, I enjoyed writing and according to my teachers and
classmates; I had a talent for it. Well, not so much for grammar and
spelling, but they liked my stories. Once I went to university, I
dropped writing as a hobby. There were other things I wanted to focus
on, such as my career. Then, in the early 2000s, around 2006 I’d
say, I had a flash of inspiration. At first, it was a single
character: a winged woman with red hair. I didn’t even know who she
was, but the image stuck with me. From there, I began figuring out
details about her origins and her world, but I only started writing
for real in 2009. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s
been roughly 10 years now, and it’s not yet finished. That’s in
part because I write in my spare time, and in part because the scope
of the project is huge. Maybe too much so. Still, I’m getting close
to the point where I could release something. The question is what’s
next? Self-publishing? Attempt traditional publishing? Nothing? I
don’t know the answer yet, I’m trying to figure it out. Frankly,
sharing my writing is difficult for me, and whatever I end up doing,
as long as I make it available to people I consider the experience a
victory no matter what comes out of it.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Website:
<a href="https://thecyborgscrusade.com/">https://thecyborgscrusade.com/</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Newsletter:
<a href="https://thecyborgscrusade.com/fanclub.html">https://thecyborgscrusade.com/fanclub.html</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Social
Media Link Hub: <a href="https://thecyborgscrusade.com/hub.html">https://thecyborgscrusade.com/hub.html</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/people/My-Skeptical-Angel/100055656492122/">https://www.facebook.com/people/My-Skeptical-Angel/100055656492122/</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://twitter.com/bl98">https://twitter.com/bl98</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCS80WvrsYaBCOKBVgYwsXTA">https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCS80WvrsYaBCOKBVgYwsXTA</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@thecyborgscrusade">https://www.tiktok.com/@thecyborgscrusade</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/thecyborgscrusade/">https://www.instagram.com/thecyborgscrusade/</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy Link on Amazon:</b>
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Cyborgs-Crusade-Day-Deux-Machina-ebook/dp/B0CBZZRDZ4/ref=sr_1_1">https://www.amazon.com/Cyborgs-Crusade-Day-Deux-Machina-ebook/dp/B0CBZZRDZ4/ref=sr_1_1</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>One
randomly chosen winner will win a $25 Amazon/BN.com gift card.</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</p>
<a class="rcptr" data-raflid="28e4345f4787" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f4787/" id="rcwidget_fcjg3c5f" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-87810811582811362882024-03-08T02:00:00.018-05:002024-03-08T02:00:00.138-05:00Strange what desire will make foolish people do – #MFRWsteam #BisexualErotica #99Cents<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUPRS6RRlfhr7qMXaQLnhw750xNkDyFY9oD-Bg9uriFzhbvfNJwKTSSCWJAgHWIGQQ-yBkay7qEQYWg00oNaj6leqCWXPLrQjlH-uXYoxrXybH8L7ZHXDDvZL8QDARLdWaTtQSnH5I4IGXIoHN5AqAzRR1sr3sl2p6o5lV-9Csgy6CtQFxZX1-oyazMrI/s600/HotBridesBanner_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Hot Brides in Vegas sale banner" border="0" data-original-height="223" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUPRS6RRlfhr7qMXaQLnhw750xNkDyFY9oD-Bg9uriFzhbvfNJwKTSSCWJAgHWIGQQ-yBkay7qEQYWg00oNaj6leqCWXPLrQjlH-uXYoxrXybH8L7ZHXDDvZL8QDARLdWaTtQSnH5I4IGXIoHN5AqAzRR1sr3sl2p6o5lV-9Csgy6CtQFxZX1-oyazMrI/s16000/HotBridesBanner_600.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"></span></span></span></span><p></p><p align="left" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">For
today’s MFRW Steam Hop, I’m featuring a sizzling excerpt from </span></span><span style="color: #990000;"><span lang="en-US"><i><b>Hot
Brides in Vega</b></i></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="color: #990000;">s</span>,
Book 1 of my outrageous Vegas Babes series. Warning: although th</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">ese
books</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"> include
romantic subplots, most readers would consider </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">them</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">
to be bisexual erotica. Since I’m not a fan of labels, I’ll just
tell you that </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">they
are</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">
imaginative, varied, </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">humorous</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">
and very, very hot! And for the next two weeks, this series starter
is on sale for </span></span><span style="color: #990000;"><span lang="en-US"><b>only
99 cents</b></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">
at all outlets! </span></span></span></span><span style="color: #990000;">
</span></p><span style="color: #990000;">
</span><p align="left" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p><span style="color: #990000;">
</span><p align="left" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span lang="en-US">Blurb</span></b></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><i>Never
underestimate the power of a horny bride.</i></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Francesca
Torelli’s tycoon father is throwing a lavish Las Vegas wedding for
his only child. Her fiancé Jake and his buddies set out for a stag
night, exploring the fleshpots of Sin City. Meanwhile, Fran and her
bridesmaids Laura and Chantal are stuck at the resort under the
watchful eye of her stern Aunt Giulia, who has promised her brother
that Franny will come to the altar a virgin. </span></span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Frustrated
and annoyed by these double standards, the young women hatch a plan
to escape their chaperone and have some fun of their own. With the
help of a susceptible concierge, a butch ex-cop limo driver and a
scandalous French couturiere, they find their way to The Fox’s Den,
the most exclusive—and outrageous—gentlemen’s club in the city.
Owner Larry Archer and his crew of strippers, bouncers, voyeurs and
sluts are more than happy to welcome the delectable trio as
contestants performing at the club’s famous Amateur Night. </span></span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
gleeful permissiveness of the Den challenges the women’s
assumptions and undermines their inhibitions. Complications ensue
when Jake and his groomsmen arrive to find Fran in the midst of her
strip act. Then Aunt Giulia crashes the party, determined to save her
virgin niece, and things get really sticky—both figuratively and
literally.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">Will
love triumph? Will Francesca be drawn over to the dark side? Is there
a difference?</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span lang="en-US">Excerpt</span></b></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">Larry
beamed at the customers, waiting for the hubbub to die down. “And
now,” he said, “I’d like to introduce our first contestant. Put
your hands together and give a big Vegas welcome to the lovely
Laura!”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">The
first bars of her chosen music filtered through the din. “Wicked
Game” by Chris Isaak, a song that always made her feel sexy. Laura
stepped out of the shadows, into the pool of light on the stage.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">The
applause hit her like a physical blow. She would have stumbled on her
sky-high heels, but the music held her.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><i>The
world was on fire, and no one could save me but you…</i></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">Like
fire, lust raced through her. She raised her arms above her head in a
luxurious stretch, then pivoted so her back was to the crowd. Ever so
slowly, she bent at the waist, walking her hands down her legs to her
ankles.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><i>It’s
strange what desire will make foolish people do…</i></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">She
felt her clinging, skimpy dress ride up the back of her thighs before
completely baring her ass. Her thong tightened between her cheeks,
adding delicious pressure against both her rear hole and her pussy.
Laura swung her hips in a figure eight, in perfect time with the
music. The audience was silent—hypnotized by her slow, sensual
moves—but she felt their eyes on her.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><i>What
a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way…</i></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">She
twirled on her high heels, until she once more faced the crowd. At
the same time, she grabbed the hem of her costume and eased the
garment up to her waist, showing off her flat stomach, her shadowy
navel and the lace-sheathed plumpness of her pussy. A guy sitting at
the bar leaned toward her, holding out a ten dollar bill. With a
smile she hoped was enticing, she crouched down in front of him,
holding his gaze. He stuck the cash into the elastic waistband of her
thong. In a flash of wickedness, she pushed the bill under the
triangle of fabric that barely covered her sex, then palmed her pussy
and rubbed hard. </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">The
spectators burst into wild applause. Meanwhile, Laura went rigid as a
mini-climax raced through her. The spotlights dimmed and the room
whirled as she struggled to remain standing.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">Did
the people watching know? Of course they did. But maybe it was common
for dancers at The Fox’s Den to come on stage. She wouldn’t be
surprised.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">The
song died away, haunting and erotic. Laura pulled the stretchy dress
over her head and shook her blonde curls free, as Donna Summer picked
up the beat.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><i>Sittin'
here, eatin' my heart out waitin'</i></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><i>Waitin'
for some lover to call…</i></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">Laura
strutted around the stage, shimmying her shoulders so that her
breasts swung back and forth. People were clapping in time with the
music as she bent once more and shook her ass in their faces. She
felt high from the lust that washed over her. They wanted her, every
single one of them.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Take
it all off,” yelled someone in the back.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">She
obliged, teasing the thong down over her hips little by little, until
everyone could see her shaved pussy. The drenched Alexander Hamilton
fluttered to the floor. Oh God!</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">A
voluptuous brunette at the bar pumped her fingers in and out of her
month, then made a come-hither gesture. Laura sank to the stage
directly in front of the woman, knees spread wide, swollen cunt lips
gaping. Her eyes locked to Laura’s, the dark-haired lady slid her
fingers bit by bit into Laura’s weeping slit. Drawing them out,
equally slowly, she dragged them over Laura’s clit.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">Fireworks
shot through Laura’s body. Juices gushed from her, puddling on the
stage. It was lucky she was already kneeling; in this onslaught of
sensation, her legs would not have held her. </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Hot
stuff!” came a call from the audience, audible even above the
thunderous applause. She recognized the deep voice. Steve!</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">Mingled
shame and lust triggered another climax. Still shaking, she rolled
onto her hip and somehow made it to a standing position. The music
had ended, or at least she thought it had. The clapping made it hard
to tell.</span></span></span></span></p><p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"></span></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFpOteXqdsxNj6zNCU2ZHySw2MKMf9u4H2lfhyphenhyphenJGl7TiqzWcBowjwqueHkOlJEThENM5gv6fZLSeLk2Q6ndfUcIPuEHJGLbwojCIb9VaYaGXxIB9fhrwsHp7ULr_GzO84kw40iVEXJ-KPgkG36Wp1ikadgXq-u7H2g6vgmo-AqHKOSTffEyTX6yeSF2ojS/s600/HotBridesCover400x600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Hot Brides in Vegas book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFpOteXqdsxNj6zNCU2ZHySw2MKMf9u4H2lfhyphenhyphenJGl7TiqzWcBowjwqueHkOlJEThENM5gv6fZLSeLk2Q6ndfUcIPuEHJGLbwojCIb9VaYaGXxIB9fhrwsHp7ULr_GzO84kw40iVEXJ-KPgkG36Wp1ikadgXq-u7H2g6vgmo-AqHKOSTffEyTX6yeSF2ojS/s16000/HotBridesCover400x600.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><br /></span></span></span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy
Links <br /></b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Ebook - <span style="color: #990000;">ON SALE FOR ONLY 99 CENTS</span><br /></b></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">Kinky
Literature –
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<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Amazon
US – </span></span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><span style="color: navy;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077JRMGJF/</span></span></span></span></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Amazon
UK - </span></span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><span style="color: navy;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx">https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B077JRMGJF/</span></span></span></span></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Smashwords
– </span></span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><span style="color: navy;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/758698</span></span></span></span></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Barnes
and Noble -
</span></span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><span style="color: navy;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-brides-in-vegas-lisabet-sarai/1127452565?ean=2940154622568</span></span></span></span></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Kobo
- </span></span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><span style="color: navy;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx">https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/hot-brides-in-vegas</span></span></span></span></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Apple
Books - </span></span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><span style="color: navy;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx">https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1312757773</span></span></span></span></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Add
on Goodreads:
</span></span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><span style="color: navy;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36588255-hot-brides-in-vegas</span></span></span></span></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><b>Audio
</b></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><b>book</b></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Amazon
- </span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><span style="color: navy;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.amazon.com/Hot-Brides-Vegas-Babes-Book/dp/B086L645JD</span></span></span></span></span></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Audible
-
</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><span style="color: navy;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.audible.com/pd/Hot-Brides-in-Vegas-Audiobook/B086L6ZJL1</span></span></span></span></span></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Be
sure to visit the other authors joining today’s Steam Hop.</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<hr />
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-66203450657666925252024-03-06T02:00:00.008-05:002024-03-06T02:00:00.135-05:00Smart, independent, kick-ass heroines – #WomensHistoryMonth #EroticRomance #MFRWHooks<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"></span></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YhNV_yV3fT3Mc6u58OnAzApaMhLL15_5oyAaXlRd2ylodHsEaiO7DeAfgoRX8Sbp8oxhZno5rdSuGt5snpSysZQncH26r6UVpqUQKTg3sjRZAvlNnrChNezK2ya88PSgFdc0TMiBa18Ub_a1cQR8Snfk-cvcSqxfNWhHxuLz_hSmEzGDiPZ18MtnSDUb/s600/HeartOfTheDeal400x600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Heart of the Deal book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3YhNV_yV3fT3Mc6u58OnAzApaMhLL15_5oyAaXlRd2ylodHsEaiO7DeAfgoRX8Sbp8oxhZno5rdSuGt5snpSysZQncH26r6UVpqUQKTg3sjRZAvlNnrChNezK2ya88PSgFdc0TMiBa18Ub_a1cQR8Snfk-cvcSqxfNWhHxuLz_hSmEzGDiPZ18MtnSDUb/s16000/HeartOfTheDeal400x600.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><br />Where
did the week go? It’s Wednesday again, time for another MFRW Book
Hooks blog hop. </span></span></span>
<p></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">March
is Women’s History Month, and this coming Friday is International
Women’s Day. I’m observing these occasions by featuring books
with smart, independent, kick-ass heroines. Okay, this description
applies to most of my heroines, but some of my female protagonists
take this to extremes. Ruby Maxwell Chen from </span></span><span style="color: #990000;"><span lang="en-US"><i>The
Heart of the Deal</i></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">
is a prime example. </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span lang="en-US">Blurb</span></b></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">All's
fair in lust and business</span></i></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Ruby
Maxwell Chen, the lovely and ruthless CEO of a sprawling British
business empire, has no qualms about playing dirty – very dirty.
She’s happy to use sex to help her close a deal, especially when
she’s the one on top. Ruby loves the game, and she expects to win.
When she encounters the inexplicably charismatic American
entrepreneur Rick Martell, though, she wonders if she hasn't finally
met her match. </span></span></span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">From
the trendy clubs of London to the Hollywood Hills, Ruby and Rick
compete for ownership of a strategic factory in Malaysia. As their
struggle for dominance escalates and their mutual lust flares, they
draw their employees and associates into their outrageous power
games. The stakes could scarcely be higher, as Ruby and Rick play for
the ultimate prize: a night of total physical surrender.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span lang="en-US"></span></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTRRJV0KtvRN4P6k-agFI_Jth_qca3BVTC3tFBH7FGfGWObf-vNXcpNfExhvUXrDn2WsT4ar8PuuuZq3iidxxkvQ9sYaS0ejt0Sr89MMwCHWYvtShiusInjcaGYDds4XFDuB4CkP5hkTAZVhrtabl2u0LiHipUyekzaDe479ydvdQjonq1OzLMKqT6wKW/s400/LogoBookHooks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Book Hooks logo" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTRRJV0KtvRN4P6k-agFI_Jth_qca3BVTC3tFBH7FGfGWObf-vNXcpNfExhvUXrDn2WsT4ar8PuuuZq3iidxxkvQ9sYaS0ejt0Sr89MMwCHWYvtShiusInjcaGYDds4XFDuB4CkP5hkTAZVhrtabl2u0LiHipUyekzaDe479ydvdQjonq1OzLMKqT6wKW/s16000/LogoBookHooks.jpg" /></a></b></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span><p></p><p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span lang="en-US">The
Hook</span></b></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Rick,”
I bark, and he jumps visibly. “Come over here.” He complies,
coming to stand next to the guest chair across the desk from me. He
moves to seat himself, but I stop him. “I didn’t tell you to sit,
did I?” He looks at me, amazed, annoyed, and obviously increasingly
excited. He shakes his head. “Then don’t.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">You’re
a scoundrel, Rick. A scoundrel and a traitor. Why didn’t you tell
me that you knew my father? That you had him convinced you were his
friend?”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">I
<i>was</i>
his friend,” Rick begins. I cut him short with a baleful glare. </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Some
friend! Friends don’t take advantage of each other. Friends don’t
lie to each other. Friends keep each other’s confidences.”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">What
are you talking about?” He sounds confused and defensive. </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">The
foundry, of course. It was my father who brought it to your
attention, showed you its potential. He intended to acquire it for
The Maxwell Companies. Then you turn around and stab him in the back
by stealing the deal away from him.”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">How…?”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Never
mind. I should have realized a lot sooner that you had inside
information, and put two and two together.”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Liu
and I planned to go into business together. The foundry was going to
be a joint project.”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Oh?
Why should I believe you?”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Because
it’s true. I can show you the preliminary documents, if you want.
Then came the accident, and everything got put on hold. The next
thing that I know, you’re talking to Baktar and I’m completely
out of the picture. I guess I was pissed off to find myself being
ignored. I decided that I needed the fab for myself.”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Why
didn’t my father tell me that he had a partner in the deal? He
never even mentioned you.”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">Rick
gives me a harried look. “I don’t know, Ruby. He talked a lot
about you. He planned to send you to Malaysia to do a final
inspection of the plant. He wanted me to join you there, to give you
a technical briefing.” This, at least, was confirmed by the email I
had read. “Maybe he wanted you to form your own conclusions about
me. Maybe he thought you’d be jealous, if you knew that he was
mentoring me.” A ghost of a grin flits across his irregular
features. “He did say that you were hot-blooded, and had a fierce
temper…”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Did
he indeed?” I say ironically, trying to keep the misery out of my
voice. I’d thought that I knew my father so well, that I was privy
to all his secrets. The revelation that he kept things from me, that
he had other confidants, is painful. I lean forward, deliberately
allowing Martell a glimpse of my cleavage, and look him in the eye.
He licks his lips nervously. “So, was he right about me, Rick?”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">I
don’t know, Ruby,” he replies softly. “I don’t know you well
enough to say.” He pauses, raises his eyes to mine. “But I’d
like to.”</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-US">I
can’t comprehend how it happens. One moment he is standing there
across from me, with the desk safely between us. The next, he’s
beside me, pulling me to my feet. Kissing me. His wiry arms snake
around me, pulling me to his chest. His lips are firm on mine,
exploring rather than demanding. His scent swirls around me, dizzying
me. The embers smoldering in my sex leap into flame. </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Rick…”
I begin, but the taste and texture and presence of him overwhelm me.
My objection melts into an inarticulate murmur of pleasure. </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Available
in Ebook and Audio formats</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Ebook</b></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kinky
Literature</span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/6188-the-heart-of-the-deal-business-bondage-discipline-and-desire/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/6188-the-heart-of-the-deal-business-bondage-discipline-and-desire/</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Amazon</span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">US</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07SJY8PTC"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07SJY8PTC</span></span></span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Amazon</span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">UK</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07SJY8PTC"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07SJY8PTC</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smashwords</span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/942426"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/942426</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Barnes
and Noble</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-heart-of-the-deal-lisabet-sarai/1131920310?ean=2940163239221"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-heart-of-the-deal-lisabet-sarai/1131920310?ean=2940163239221</span></span></span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kobo</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/the-heart-of-the-deal-business-bondage-discipline-and-desire"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/the-heart-of-the-deal-business-bondage-discipline-and-desire</span></span></span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Apple
Books</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1466637147"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1466637147</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Add
on Goodreads</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46258845-the-heart-of-the-deal"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/46258845-the-heart-of-the-deal</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Audio
Book</b></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Heart-Deal-Business-Bondage-Discipline/dp/B08RLY6YBN"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.amazon.com/Heart-Deal-Business-Bondage-Discipline/dp/B08RLY6YBN</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/The-Heart-of-the-Deal-Audiobook/B08RLT7GQK"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://www.audible.com/pd/The-Heart-of-the-Deal-Audiobook/B08RLT7GQK</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Be
sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s hop!</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<hr />
<!--start LinkyTools script--><script src="https://www.linkytools.com/basic_linky_include.aspx?id=313188" type="text/javascript"></script><!--end LinkyTools script-->
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-73246957976820979402024-03-05T02:00:00.004-05:002024-03-05T02:00:00.137-05:00Two lonely souls at the edge of the world – #HistoricalRomance #ReviewTuesday #Giveaway<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDWMa69GkOu4DFKWMXgcM2n63RGbQfkH9LK__oi-uVY5daBleCfaRWLElHvjI8LOUzMwyqflisVBuAWYw7GeQkkpLS-ZZAED2vx-PN-hKc0K5C4YF79T_92gluK2vT58TaoVYB9dsuFc6UUVxqqNPEKlPZ2xFTdsh6JyNan5n6lcPRyzBWwPDN8cinUuuF/s600/TourBanner_A%20Troubled%20Heart.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="A Troubled Heart tour banner" border="0" data-original-height="335" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDWMa69GkOu4DFKWMXgcM2n63RGbQfkH9LK__oi-uVY5daBleCfaRWLElHvjI8LOUzMwyqflisVBuAWYw7GeQkkpLS-ZZAED2vx-PN-hKc0K5C4YF79T_92gluK2vT58TaoVYB9dsuFc6UUVxqqNPEKlPZ2xFTdsh6JyNan5n6lcPRyzBWwPDN8cinUuuF/s16000/TourBanner_A%20Troubled%20Heart.gif" /></a></b></span></span></div><p></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>B</b><b>lurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Unsure
of his real past or name, Finn O’Connor thinks he was born in
Ireland and taken from his mother as a baby by a gypsy woman. As a
toddler, an English woman then took him to London. About ten he fled
to join a gang of boys who survived by their wits on the streets.
Five years later, he was arrested for a minor crime and transported
to The Colony of New South Wales for a 10-year term. In 1846 as
transporting of criminals neared an end in NSW, he was moved to the
infamous penitentiary at Port Arthur in Van Diemen’s Land.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">On
the day Finn received his papers of freedom an accidental meeting
brought him into contact with 20-year-old Esther Blythe. Born in
Surrey, England, genteel Esther is kind and caring. As a 4-year-old
her parents brought her to Van Diemen’s Land where her Papa, a
doctor, took on the task of providing medical aid to the prisoners at
the Port Arthur Penitentiary and its surrounding area. Sadly, both
parents were killed in an accident, leaving Esther with no option but
to work as a governess/nursemaid.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">For
reasons that even she did not comprehend, Esther took the ex-convict
under her wing when they met outside the penitentiary hospital. Could
be she saw a fellow lonely soul who simply wanted someone to have
faith in him. Life seems to take a turn for perhaps the better from
then on, but will these two lonely people overcome many obstacles to
find the happiness they seek together as they face an uncertain
future.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Pleased
to meet you, Esther.” With a feeling he had drifted into some
strange other world, he added, “I go by Finn O’Connor.” The
Finn part was probably fact. As for his surname, he had no idea who
had called him that somewhere along the way in his growing years, but
he kept it as a way to prove that he was born in Ireland. As the
horse began to trot, he asked, “You said your Pa was a medical
man—is he not one anymore?”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sadly,
for me, my dear Papa, along with my Mama, was killed just last year
when the carriage they were in overturned after hitting a rock.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh,
I am sorry to hear that. It must have been awful for you. Are you
alone now or do you have siblings?”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">After
a deep sigh, she admitted, “It was the worst time of my life—and
no I have no brothers or sisters. That of course is why I am employed
as companion of sorts to the girl in need of the medication I was
sent to collect. It’s a shame, but she is currently a sickly child
and has a nasty cough.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">So,
you not only lost your parents, you also lost your home?” Although
he had never known what it was to have a real family, nonetheless a
place somewhere near Finn’s heart ached for this young girl who had
hers snatched away so cruelly.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Without
answering that, she gestured ahead to where a cottage surrounded by a
few trees sat atop a slight knoll. “We have arrived,” she said as
she pulled up a short distance from a gate in the fence surrounding
the garden. “Say little to my mistress, but let me explain to her
that you are looking for employment.” Finn nodded, still feeling as
if he was in the middle of some strange dream. “Please wait here
while I go and fetch you something more presentable to wear. I
suppose you realise that you look far worse than a farmer’s
scarecrow in those filthy rags.” The look of scorn she sent to his
trousers made him realise such if her words had not.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">As
she walked off, he scratched at his head, knowing at least his hair
and body were now clean after the nights’ stay in the infirmary.
Was there no end to the oddness of this female? Where on earth would
she find clothing for him? Surely not from her employer’s wardrobe?
</span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Review
by Lisabet Sarai</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
calls himself Finn O’Connor, but that’s just because he’s been
told he came from Ireland. Orphaned, abandoned, abused, thrown onto
the streets of London to make his way as part of a gang of child
thieves, Finn was eventually arrested and sent to the Port Arthur
prison colony in Tasmania. Now he has completed his ten year
sentence, but his future looks dark. Barely educated, with no money
and no connections, how will he survive?<br /></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lovely
and genteel, Esther Blythe is also alone in the world. Still dealing
with the pain of losing her beloved parents in an accident, she has
more financial resources than Finn as well as a kind heart and an
independent spirit. When Finn assists her after a fall in the street,
she offers him a lifeline in the form of possible employment with the
family for whom she works as a nanny. Common sense suggests she
shouldn’t trust an ex-convict about whom she knows nothing.
However, her intuition urges her to give the strong, good-looking
young man a chance to prove his worth. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">To
Finn, she seems an angel sent to rescue him from impending disaster.
He’s powerfully drawn to her, but how can he expect a cultured
young woman like Esther to care for a piece of Irish trash?</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>A
Troubled Heart</i> chronicles the efforts and misadventures of Finn
and Esther as they try to build a life in mid-nineteenth-century
Tasmania. From a murderous mad woman to a corrupt gold-digging dandy,
the two deal with a variety of challenges. As they grow closer, they
come to value, respect and love one another, eventually deciding to
marry. Even as a societally-sanctioned couple, however, they must
battle against forces that could easily tear them apart.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
enjoyed <i>A Troubled Heart</i>, due to its unusual setting and
background as well as its sympathetic characters. I don’t think
I’ve ever read a novel set in historical Tasmania. Ms. McGill
paints a picture of a fairly harsh life in a society on the frontiers
of the contemporary world. I don’t have enough background to
evaluate whether her portrayal is accurate, but it felt real. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Meanwhile,
Esther and Finn are such fundamentally good people that you can’t
help hoping for them to succeed together. They’re not without
flaws: Esther is overly trusting, which Finn can be a bit of a
hot-head. At one point in the book, even after they’ve wed, they
are forced apart by their weaknesses. Of course since this is a
romance, you know they’ll find one another and reconcile, but the
situation is quite tense for a while. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
found the pacing and prose in <i>A Troubled Heart</i> less
satisfactory. Though the plot includes a number of negative
occurrences, the tone felt too even. The exposition is very direct
and matter-of-fact, with little in the way of artfulness, suspense or
conflict. I did not get a strong sense of a narrative arc, events
building toward a crisis and resolution.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Finn’s
and Esther’s relationship, likewise, seems to lack passion. Their
decision to wed (at Esther’s suggestion) is more of a practical
step than driven by intense emotion. They’re attracted to one
another, but that attraction is secondary. One tends to read romance
at least partially to experience the breathless excitement of new
love. This book was a bit disappointing for me in that regard.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">All
in all, though, <i>A Troubled Heart</i> is worth reading. In a genre
rife with cookie-cutter plots and brazenly manipulative tropes, it
offers originality and sincerity.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSuLZxDi9nC_iBmCmAcav76D6HlgG9CpMmCAUfl6JgWDB-xe0Q5jC42L7qDm-Top3emVSQhx_T-VI0zYBaFzRpLdAKJHhY2Y-0MZhCMtGwEhswJfYa9tUZ6K7mlQ_emqR6HKtxT3SQ-crZhdM0jbJ958piA0s3xaMb-KadK2nmMud0rsWJd2qUnETl0Y6x/s640/BookCover_A%20Troubled%20Heart.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="A Troubled Heart book cover" border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSuLZxDi9nC_iBmCmAcav76D6HlgG9CpMmCAUfl6JgWDB-xe0Q5jC42L7qDm-Top3emVSQhx_T-VI0zYBaFzRpLdAKJHhY2Y-0MZhCMtGwEhswJfYa9tUZ6K7mlQ_emqR6HKtxT3SQ-crZhdM0jbJ958piA0s3xaMb-KadK2nmMud0rsWJd2qUnETl0Y6x/s16000/BookCover_A%20Troubled%20Heart.jpg" /></a></b></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span><p></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>About
the Author</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Award
winning author Tricia McGill spent her early days in London, England,
and moved to Australia many years ago, settling near Melbourne. The
youngest in a large, loving family she was surrounded by avid
readers, who encouraged her to read from an early age. Is it any
wonder she became a writer. Although her published works cross
sub-genres, romance is always at their heart. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tricia’s
love of animals has always shown up in her books. Tricia devotes as
much time and money as she can spare to supporting worldwide
conservation groups and is passionate about supporting those who do
all they can to preserve our wildlife for future generations. She
also volunteers for a local community group that helps disabled
adults and children to connect to the internet with provided computer
equipment. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
Troubled Heart Purchase link :
<a href="https://books2read.com/A-Troubled-Heart">https://books2read.com/A-Troubled-Heart</a></span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tricia
McGill Website: <a href="http://www.triciamcgill.com/">http://www.triciamcgill.com</a></span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">On
Facebook:
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/Australian-Author-Tricia-McGill-192885847937078/">https://www.facebook.com/Australian-Author-Tricia-McGill-192885847937078/</a></span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tricia
McGill will be awarding a randomly drawn winner a $10 Amazon/BN GC.</span></span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</p>
<a class="rcptr" data-raflid="28e4345f4805" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f4805/" id="rcwidget_m34mf7p2" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-12007603771024812142024-03-04T02:00:00.003-05:002024-03-04T02:00:00.138-05:00Goodness, he’s handsome... Brand-new steamy romance from Lucy Felthouse (@cw1985) #romance #steamyromance <p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0VHxQPfAebxn-C8BLSnOZ5Zmr3ePoua7nCWK5fzs7GT7DRKqONg6L0X2IRomfA55Qq0_YpF0ZOaVFzGHh8qldkRNySkQ2upCWPFrj9Gw1StUTudr0pOJ-pqHjYIlxQDezSxyGRB-BqWEcfR-wP7mzhAU6NasjfHngLjkCXMHIdz1nYfua-fskElI2oOcw/s600/NotThatKindofWitch.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Not That Kind of Witch book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0VHxQPfAebxn-C8BLSnOZ5Zmr3ePoua7nCWK5fzs7GT7DRKqONg6L0X2IRomfA55Qq0_YpF0ZOaVFzGHh8qldkRNySkQ2upCWPFrj9Gw1StUTudr0pOJ-pqHjYIlxQDezSxyGRB-BqWEcfR-wP7mzhAU6NasjfHngLjkCXMHIdz1nYfua-fskElI2oOcw/s16000/NotThatKindofWitch.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Spread the news!</span></span><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lucy Felthouse has a brand new release! <i>Not That Kind of Witch </i>is
a M/F steamy contemporary romance filled with fun and steam, which
also tackles some serious topics. So if you’re looking for a hefty
dollop of realism in your romance, then check this one out!</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><b>Can
Willow let go of her fears and begin living her life again, or will
her issues get the better of her?</b></i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Willow
Green is having a hard time of it. Losing her job at the beginning of
the pandemic and her elderly grandmother’s ‘clinically
vulnerable’ status have resulted in her becoming housebound. While
her entrepreneurial, hard-working spirit and the knowledge passed
down through generations of green witches in her family mean she has
solved her employment problem, her fear of going out, of allowing the
dreaded virus into the house she shares with her grandmother, is far
from resolved. In fact, it seems worse than ever.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">That
is, until Joe Lane comes along. The handsome care worker turned
delivery driver does Willow a favour, gaining her attention and
reluctant admiration. He’s got plenty of baggage of his own, but he
also has the skills and temperament to help her with her problem—and
he really seems to care.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
question is, will she let him get close enough to try?</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Available
in eBook and paperback formats: <a href="https://books2read.com/ntkow">https://books2read.com/ntkow</a>
</b></span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Add
to BookBub:</b></span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/not-that-kind-of-witch-a-contemporary-steamy-romance-novel-by-lucy-felthouse">https://www.bookbub.com/books/not-that-kind-of-witch-a-contemporary-steamy-romance-novel-by-lucy-felthouse</a>
</b></span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Add
to Goodreads:
<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/203844879-not-that-kind-of-witch">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/203844879-not-that-kind-of-witch</a>
</b></span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWpZchrDdCPj4UNhOQF3NJazcsPhvtGJtsYZYIrCKSN256tIESco7KfXba3BazJINSDnin_3xlx8I-cjIN_NDFdW9jMDuGS_Ba6wZR3ngx-su_sRMUh8b4qmzqxkvXC4qZpxG8TlMM_gVcNFlmWr1N2VARlVRwjdTxojm2rNUjYmNt4KdBWG41wLmYEXkh/s600/BookBrushImage614.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Not That Kind of Witch teaser graphic" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWpZchrDdCPj4UNhOQF3NJazcsPhvtGJtsYZYIrCKSN256tIESco7KfXba3BazJINSDnin_3xlx8I-cjIN_NDFdW9jMDuGS_Ba6wZR3ngx-su_sRMUh8b4qmzqxkvXC4qZpxG8TlMM_gVcNFlmWr1N2VARlVRwjdTxojm2rNUjYmNt4KdBWG41wLmYEXkh/s16000/BookBrushImage614.png" /></a></b></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Willow
Green had just stepped into the kitchen from the back garden when
there came an almighty hammering on the front door. Panic and
irritation flared in equal measure and she dumped her loaded wicker
basket on the huge farmhouse-style table before hurrying through the
house towards the source of the noise.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Another
hammering. The irritation started to outweigh the panic. Whoever was
there was in danger of waking the dead, never mind disturbing
mostly-deaf Grandma Annie, whom Willow had left happily knitting in
the conservatory with a cup of tea on the table at her side before
she’d headed out to the garden.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Willow
cast her gaze to the ceiling and grunted with frustration. The whole
<i>point </i>of installing the smart doorbell and having it set to
only<i> </i>sound an alert on her phone had been to prevent Grandma
being tempted to get out of her chair and make her way to the door,
putting her at risk of a trip or fall along the way, or placing her
in a vulnerable position with a complete stranger. The added bonus
being, Willow could be at the furthest reaches of the garden, and her
phone would cleverly let her know someone was at the front door.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Had
this person not seen the sign? Smack dab in the middle of the door:
<i>Please use doorbell. </i>With an arrow pointing to it. Couldn’t
they read?</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then
she remembered. The last time this happened, which had been a while
ago, prior to getting the doorbell camera in the first place, it had
been kids at the door. Kids who, once she’d opened up, backed off
down the path and began flinging jibes and questions at her from what
they considered a safe distance.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Hey,
witch.</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Been
out flying on your broomstick?</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>What’s
bubbling in your cauldron?</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>You
gonna turn us into toads?</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Did
your ancestors get burned at the stake?</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Where’s
your black cat?</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her
heart sank. She sighed and prepared herself for more of the same. It
was unlikely, after all, they’d have come up with something new or
more original—despite the astonishing wealth of information the
human race had at its fingertips these days. Perhaps they hadn’t
bothered to look, to educate themselves, or simply thought it was fun
to torment a forty-year-old woman who’d never harm anything or
anyone—not even if it <i>was </i>possible to turn people into
toads. Though, admittedly, if she were a lesser woman, she’d be
sorely tempted to throw out a few fake incantations to scare them,
make them think she’d cursed them.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maybe
she should. Yes, it was stooping to their level, but if it stopped
them coming back…</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>No.
I’m not going there. </i>She briefly considered not answering the
door at all. She could access the doorbell speaker and tell them to
clear off from the safety and comfort of her hallway, but she didn’t
want them to think she was weak, or frightened. That’d just enhance
the thrill for them, encourage them to harass her more often. <i>Not
happening. Not on my watch. I don’t have time for that kind of
idiocy.</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
shook her head, unlocked the door and yanked it open, her annoyance
already spilling forth. Generally speaking, she was an incredibly
placid person, and slow to anger. But she didn’t want these kids to
think this house was an easy target. She’d kept the previous
incident from Grandma, not wanting to worry her, and had hoped the
addition of the doorbell camera might deter them from returning.
“Have you horrible toerags seriously got nothing better to do? You
should be ashamed of yourselves, pestering people like this! I’ve a
mind to contact your parents—”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
stopped dead as the door swung wide enough to provide a view of who
was on the other side of it. Not kids—horrible or otherwise—but a
man. With a large cardboard box at his feet, bearing a familiar logo.
<i>Uh-oh.</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
glance past him to the gravel lane leading to her house confirmed her
fears. A white Transit van sat there.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
cringed and forced her gaze back to the man. A navy-blue T-shirt
bearing the delivery company’s logo was stretched over his muscular
biceps and chunky abdomen—a dad bod, she supposed it’d be classed
as, though she didn’t really agree with the terminology—as well
as a pair of tan shorts and some beat-up looking trainers. He was
tall, well over six feet, and she had to crane her neck to meet his
eyes. “I’m so sorry. The last time someone hammered on my door
like that, it was a bunch of kids shouting abuse. I thought you were
them. If you’d just rung the doorbell, like the sign…”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
frown that appeared on the man’s face as she spoke made her shift
her attention to her right, a sinking feeling taking over. Where
there should have been a sign attached to the centre of the door,
were now only six evenly-spaced blobs of Blu-Tak.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Heat
flared into her cheeks, and she let out a groan and closed her eyes
momentarily. “Well, there <i>was </i>a sign. It’s obviously
fallen off. I had no idea. Or I wouldn’t have… never mind. I’m
really sorry. And now I’m waffling.” She gave a pained smile, her
face threatening to burst into flames. “Anyway. You have a parcel
for me?” Her voice went so high at the end she was surprised she
hadn’t summoned the neighbourhood dogs.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">To
his credit, the man simply shrugged. “No worries. I’ve been
called worse. You’re…” he consulted the screen of the
smartphone in his hand, “Willow Green?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Given
the circumstances, she let the slight waver of amusement in his voice
at her name slide. “Yes,” she replied resignedly. “That’s
me.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Great.
It’s a tracked parcel, so I need to take a photo to prove I’ve
delivered it…”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Okay.
Go ahead.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
tapped his phone screen a few times, then lifted the device and
stepped back, presumably ensuring he got the right angle so his image
would contain both the parcel and her feet inside the open doorway.
Pressed the button. “Got it. Thanks. Do you want me to bring it in
for you? It’s pretty heavy.” He pocketed the phone.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">No,”
she said quickly, recoiling as he approached and made to pick up the
box. “I mean, no <i>thank you. </i>I’m fine. I need to find the
sign before I go indoors, anyway. Don’t want to shout at any more
undeserving delivery drivers, do I?” The chuckle she let out
sounded forced, even to her own ears.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Guess
not.” He backed off and clasped his chin, then stroked his thick
beard, more grey than black—the colour of his thick, plentiful
hair, which had only a dusting of grey at the temples. He glanced at
the doorbell and wrinkled his nose. “Should’ve spotted that,
really. Especially when no one answered after I knocked a few times.
The Blu-Tak should have provided a clue that maybe there was a sign
there, and I could have put two and two together. I’m sorry. Such
an idiot. Won’t make that mistake again though, will I?” Despite
the weakness of his smile, it transformed his face enough that
Willow’s stomach flipped. <i>Goodness, he’s handsome.</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a name="_Hlk512591156"></a>
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>About
the </b><b>Author</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a name="_Hlk511898234"></a>
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lucy
Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Stately
Pleasures </i></span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">(named
in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That
You’ve Never Heard Of), </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Eyes
Wide Open </i></span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">(winner
of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award), </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>The
Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight,</i></span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Curve
Appeal, </i></span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">and
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>The
Heiress’s Harem </i></span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">and
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>The
Dreadnoughts </i></span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">series</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>.
</i></span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Including
novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 175 publications to
her name. Find out more about her and her writing at
</span></span><a href="http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/linktree"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/linktree</u></span></span></span></a><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Release
blitz organised by <a href="https://www.writermarketing.co.uk">Writer
Marketing Services</a>.</b></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></span></span></p>
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-86062732783412501682024-03-01T02:00:00.013-05:002024-03-01T02:00:00.242-05:00Those Absent on the Great Hungarian Plain – #Memoir #History #Hungary<p>
</p><p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8kZUDV5D_n4d77q2pRX3EzFpi75rWGBtN6oLB8o0ztRNFCmoYQfKaic_95XprOax9c-0O9BZ7wuLI6nn3ATGBDU6eAsTDhwbUJnfgIH9mLnyx7PqPJLroeBsqJU1m2ftwmGARX4O4cM_p8hGECDAMk09pHAvKqwbvpjm8VGcomy25REQpg_HWmDIO8vSB/s607/CoverThoseAbsentCouveture1-DEF.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Those Absent book cover" border="0" data-original-height="607" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8kZUDV5D_n4d77q2pRX3EzFpi75rWGBtN6oLB8o0ztRNFCmoYQfKaic_95XprOax9c-0O9BZ7wuLI6nn3ATGBDU6eAsTDhwbUJnfgIH9mLnyx7PqPJLroeBsqJU1m2ftwmGARX4O4cM_p8hGECDAMk09pHAvKqwbvpjm8VGcomy25REQpg_HWmDIO8vSB/s16000/CoverThoseAbsentCouveture1-DEF.jpg" /></a></span></span></b></div><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></b><p></p><p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">By
Jill Culiner (Guest Blogger)</span></span></b></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
1999, I was in Budapest, preparing a photographic exhibition about
the vanished Jews of Eastern Europe, when I heard about the
Kunmadaras pogrom: In May 1946, Holocaust survivors were accused of
kidnapping Christian children and using their blood for kosher
sausage. Grabbing iron bars, garden tools, any weapon they could
find, the town's residents went on a rampage, murdering Jews and
pillaging their homes and businesses </span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">How
could such an absurd accusation have been levelled after the war? I
was determined to discover the answer.</span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">When
I arrived in Kunmadaras, I was accepted by a group of friendly locals
who hung around the local watering hole run by blowsy <span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">Ildikó</span></span>
— Tarzan, the black marketer and corrupt night watchman; Udo, the
Austrian who preferred Hungarian women to his wife; Kata, the eternal
party girl; hard-drinking Karcsi; and the brutal Ibolya. And although
no one seemed to resent my questioning, all denied having any
knowledge of the pogrom. </span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Settling
in the neighbouring village of Tiszaörs, I soon discovered that
village society was a unique but uneasy mix of former communists,
<span lang="en-US">dispossessed </span>nobles, expropriated peasants,
German retirees, black marketers, former members of the Hitler Youth
Movement, and Hungarians who had returned after communism ended. </span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
began looking for traces of <span lang="en-US">the vanished local
Jewish community</span>. <span lang="en-US">And I discovered that,
although Jews had lived here for hundreds of years and had arrived in
the country alongside the Magyar tribes in the 9</span><sup><span lang="en-US">th</span></sup><span lang="en-US">
century, the villagers denied their existence. Therefore, I became
more determined</span> to question, listen, observe, to ferret out
the truth about the pogrom and the Jews who were so strikingly
absent.</span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Living
on the Hungarian Great Plain was a remarkable experience, and
carrying out an investigation, much as an amateur detective would,
allowed me to step into the country’s history. Therefore, </span><span lang="en-US"><i>Those
Absent on the Great Hungarian Plain</i></span><span lang="en-US"> is
a </span>blend of history, traditions, local happenings, rumour, love
stories, and prejudices.<span lang="en-US"> And </span>I hope I have
portrayed, with empathy, people who, often caught in political
conflicts, are pawns in a global one<span lang="en-US">.</span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Trailer:
</span></span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Xa1aiVkiT4"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Xa1aiVkiT4</span></span></span></a></u></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Purchase
links: </span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://books2read.com/GreatPlain"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://books2read.com/GreatPlain</span></span></a></u></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a name="Writer"></a>
<span style="color: #990000;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Those
Absent on the Great Hungarian Plain </i></span></span></b></span>
</p>
<p align="left" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
Hungarian village on the Great Plain: a microcosm reflecting this
country’s history from early tribal invasion, to Soviet
subordination, to European Community membership. Here, peasants,
herders, party girls, former nazis and lapsed communists share gossip
as well as love stories; and unscrupulous leaders, totalitarian or
freely elected, decide behaviour. And while fully embracing the new
consumer society, there remains one constant: hatred of the
long-vanished rural Jew.</span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Reviews</b></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Those
Absent is a fascinating literary journey, exposing anecdotes of rural
life and anti-Semitism in the late nineteenth
century to modern days. An intriguing and frank investigation of the
region’s daily life, its common beliefs and rarely mentioned
truths. Highly recommended.</span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>~
Mel Cederbaum, Executive Director, Toronto Workmen’s Circle</i></span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">An
incredibly evocative book about the lost Jews of Hungary, part
history, part detective story, part personal memoir, it brings to
life a cast of characters fitting for a Dickensian novel, deals with
the fallibility of memory, with the nature of prejudice and
persecution, and with the past as both history and fiction.</span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">~
<i>Dr Michael Talalay, Writer, Lecturer, Regents University London</i></span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jill
Culiner recounts her relentless six year search for the truth about
the fate of the Jews who returned from the Nazi death camps. Part
memoir, part travelogue, part history, part elegy, this multi-layered
homage to the Great Hungarian Plain embraces its majesty and tragedy
at virtually the last possible moment.</span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>~
Robin Roger, Psychotherapist, Writer, Reviewer</i></span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
long history of hatred toward the Jews combined with the exploitation
and misery of the peasants have forged Hungarian identity. Jill
Culiner’s Central Europe is plagued by the same demons that led to
the tragedies of the past century.</span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>~
Dr Marcel Calvez, Emeritus Professor of Sociology, University of
Rennes, France</i></span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
a narrative of village life, coarse xenophobia and cruelty contrast
with acceptance, friendship and laughter. The horror of the past is
concealed, yet Culiner finds compassion in human failure.</span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>~
Penny-Lynn Cookson, Art Historian, Writer</i></span></span></p><span style="color: #990000;">
</span>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Listen to sample chapters</b></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://soundcloud.com/j-arlene-culiner/2-those-absent-on-the-great-hungarian-plain-tarzan-udo-and-the-russians">https://soundcloud.com/j-arlene-culiner/2-those-absent-on-the-great-hungarian-plain-tarzan-udo-and-the-russians</a>
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="https://soundcloud.com/j-arlene-culiner/those-absent-on-the-great-hungarian-plain-the-hungarian-count">https://soundcloud.com/j-arlene-culiner/those-absent-on-the-great-hungarian-plain-the-hungarian-count</a>
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>About
the Author</b></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge_B5xQs0RDJrA_tp1ZjNG_WvYWtTzUVdWt_GzjqwpocJ0qozrRyBuEDS5B0NtzBCN3PYmzYffhdsF1LuEHJE6sHl0bWFBddzu83ggZEkuZAoWLbNg6g0yi_K0OJzqTvOUCsW5l7VEsynWE8aKLDB2Mq5Bm9A0x8YZ_kTFvISKqnNg-0ooXi2uSIDzr45W/s244/Author.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="Author Image" border="0" data-original-height="244" data-original-width="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge_B5xQs0RDJrA_tp1ZjNG_WvYWtTzUVdWt_GzjqwpocJ0qozrRyBuEDS5B0NtzBCN3PYmzYffhdsF1LuEHJE6sHl0bWFBddzu83ggZEkuZAoWLbNg6g0yi_K0OJzqTvOUCsW5l7VEsynWE8aKLDB2Mq5Bm9A0x8YZ_kTFvISKqnNg-0ooXi2uSIDzr45W/s16000/Author.jpg" /></a></div>
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;"><span lang="en-CA">Born
in New York, raised in Toronto, Jill Culiner, writer, social critical
artist, and photographer has spent most of her life in France,
England, Germany, Hungary, Turkey, Holland, and North Africa. Her
photographic exhibition about the First and Second World Wars, </span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;"><span lang="en-CA"><i>La
Mémoire Effacée</i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;"><span lang="en-CA">,
toured France, Canada, and Hungary under the auspices of the French
Ministry of Foreign Affairs and UNESCO. Her non-fiction, </span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;"><span lang="en-CA"><i>Finding
Home in the Footsteps of the Jewish Fusgeyers</i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;"><span lang="en-CA">
won the Joseph and Faye Tanenbaum Prize for Canadian Jewish History
and was shortlisted for the ForeWord Magazine Award. Her biography of
a nineteenth-century rebel Yiddish poet and singer, </span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;"><span lang="en-CA"><i>A
Contrary Journey with Velvel Zbarzher, Bard,</i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;"><span lang="en-CA">
was published by Claret Press in 2022.</span></span></span></span></span><p></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-CA"> She
presently lives in a 400-year-old inn in France that is so chaotic
and strange, it has been classified as a museum.
(</span></span></span></span><span style="color: #0011ff;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt;"><u><a href="http://www.jill-culiner.com/">http://www.jill-culiner.com</a>)</u></span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="letter-spacing: -0.1pt; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Author
links: </span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://linktr.ee/jillculiner"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://linktr.ee/jillculiner</span></span></a></u></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Web
site: </span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://www.jillculiner-writer.com/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.jillculiner-writer.com</span></span></a></u></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">Blog:
</span></span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://jewish-histories.over-blog.com/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://jewish-histories.over-blog.com</span></span></a></u></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="color: #231f20;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Podcast:</span></span></span><span style="color: #231f20;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.7pt;">
</span></span></span></span><a href="https://soundcloud.com/j-arlene-culiner"><span style="color: #0011ff;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://soundcloud.com/j-arlene-culiner</u></span></span></span></a></p>
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-27725714732476935342024-02-28T02:00:00.012-05:002024-02-28T02:00:00.139-05:00I’m not your lover – #MMRomance #ScienceFiction #MFRWHooks<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDvAQsv-ThLdkKrZDJamHKdJn9d3GectJzH40OhLEZb3GfaEeakOrFCJso874Iuvqvc03m3i3qidTOvE-a-Q72IIQXxv92dfapWcXBkoY_OA0cAjU9Sl7NMnNmKryaJ0Es4AFhIUz2TQggCyPhbyIE-kaxcqFEqhOrsiSJPHNHHuW5BcRD7aAehMTuaEU/s600/TheHGeneCover_400.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The H-Gene book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDvAQsv-ThLdkKrZDJamHKdJn9d3GectJzH40OhLEZb3GfaEeakOrFCJso874Iuvqvc03m3i3qidTOvE-a-Q72IIQXxv92dfapWcXBkoY_OA0cAjU9Sl7NMnNmKryaJ0Es4AFhIUz2TQggCyPhbyIE-kaxcqFEqhOrsiSJPHNHHuW5BcRD7aAehMTuaEU/s16000/TheHGeneCover_400.jpg" /></a></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">Welcome
to this week’s MFRW Book Hooks blog hop. I’m continuing to mark
Black History Month by featuring excerpts from my books that have
Black characters.</span></span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #990000;"><i><b>The
H-Gene</b></i></span> is a dystopian near-future MM erotic romance. One of
my heroes, Rafe, is a Black man from the ghettos of Los Angeles.
Absorbed in the romance plot, I didn’t really think about it at the
time, but Rafe’s back story is all too common in a society where
justice is definitely not color blind.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>When
love is forbidden, the whole world’s a prison.</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">After
a gay plague killed millions and sparked brutal riots, the Guardians
locked up all H-positive men in remote quarantine camps – including
Dylan Moore. H-negative guard Rafe Cowell blames the lust he feels
watching prisoner 3218 on loneliness and isolation. When he finally
meets the young queer, he discovers that Dylan is brilliant, brave,
sexy as hell — and claims to be in love with Rafe.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The
Hook</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hey!
Rafe?” Dylan stroked his palm over the close-cut nap covering
Rafe’s skull. “Are you all right?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
guard raised his eyes. Anguish twisted his handsome features. “What
the fuck have I done?” He shook his head. “I’m no better than
you, you disgusting little fag.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Alarm
bells rang in Dylan’s mind. A bit of guilt, a little fear, that was
useful. Too much would spoil things. He stroked Rafe’s arm gently
and was encouraged when the man didn’t pull away. “Didn’t it
feel good?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Yeah.
Too good.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">It
felt good to me too. It was what I needed. Thank you. It’s been
years since anyone made love to me.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You
mean fucked you?” The scorn in Rafe’s voice made Dylan smile
secretly.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">No,
that’s not what I mean. My partner was killed by the Plague—seven
years ago. I haven’t had another lover since. Not until you.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
not your lover,” Rafe snorted. Still, he didn’t stop Dylan from
touching him. “But I might be your executioner. Nobody cares if
some perv dies. I should kill you right now, for polluting me.
Contaminating me.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don’t
be silly,” said Dylan. He pressed his lips briefly to Rafe’s
cheek. The other man did not resist. “That’s all propaganda,
dreamed up by the Guardians. Anyway, have you ever killed anyone?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">No,”
said Rafe, his voice barely audible. He eased himself onto the bench
next to Dylan. “Even though they said I did.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Dylan
wondered whether he could use this revelation to his advantage. “Who
said?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
judges. I told them I had nothing to do with the hit, but they didn’t
believe me. They sent me here to this God-forsaken place to rot.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">All
the guard’s pain, loneliness and frustration were naked in his
voice. Dylan felt a pang of guilt. This guy deserved a better deal.
He didn’t need another betrayal.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Dylan
pushed the thoughts away. He mustn’t weaken now, when everything
was going so well. “I know how you feel. I’m stuck here, too, you
know. I’ve been here since I was seventeen. Robbed of my youth. My
life. Unless there’s some change, I’ll still be here when I’m
seventy.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Rafe
looked troubled. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry. But they had to do
something…”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Something
to satisfy the mob’s cries for blood?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">It
was terrible.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
know. I was there. I watched Miguel die and the city burn. Do you
really believe that I’m responsible? Me and all the other poor
souls incarcerated here?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Rafe
shook his head slowly, but Dylan had the feeling this wasn’t in
answer to his question.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Anyway,
you don’t need to worry. You’re not going to catch the Plague,
not from me. And nobody is going to find out about us, trust me.”
Dylan paused, wondering how much of the truth he should share. “I
have another controller. I can arrange things so that we can be
together again. Soon.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
don’t want us to be together, damn it!” Rafe bolted up from the
seat. He towered over Dylan, fists clenched as though he wanted to
smash them into Dylan’s face.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5vRe-dNuIAwcXbI0mHNJy5YnnhfiKZvAFVaTKN3VNwPp-twhgY0VFgDECfw6tejWZwtDmm3XEVdVHl9OarhmKyx3CXITtbShovhHjNBZ7R4bQ6Mywj7Y35lIaZng4pcHrvIzVL6zM_Gbew1xWjyfCut_v7Uzn3_r_e3XpuUYqBrohew2irvQXSMjsNLfS/s666/Teaser1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The H-Gene teaser" border="0" data-original-height="666" data-original-width="440" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5vRe-dNuIAwcXbI0mHNJy5YnnhfiKZvAFVaTKN3VNwPp-twhgY0VFgDECfw6tejWZwtDmm3XEVdVHl9OarhmKyx3CXITtbShovhHjNBZ7R4bQ6Mywj7Y35lIaZng4pcHrvIzVL6zM_Gbew1xWjyfCut_v7Uzn3_r_e3XpuUYqBrohew2irvQXSMjsNLfS/s16000/Teaser1.jpg" /></a></div></span></span><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy</b><b>
</b><b>Links</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kinky
Literature </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/7233-the-hgene-after-the-plague-book-1/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/7233-the-hgene-after-the-plague-book-1/</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">US</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08CVNK6NL"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08CVNK6NL</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">UK</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08CVNK6NL"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08CVNK6NL</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smashwords</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1032512"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1032512</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Barnes</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">and</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Noble</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-h-gene-lisabet-sarai/1137338272?ean=2940164186050"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-h-gene-lisabet-sarai/1137338272?ean=2940164186050</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kobo</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-h-gene"><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u></u></span></span></a><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-h-gene"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-h-gene</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Apple
Books - </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1523511955"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1523511955</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Add</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">on</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Goodreads:</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54529211-the-h-gene"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54529211-the-h-gene</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
hope you’ll visit the other authors participating in today’s Book
Hooks!</span></span></b></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<hr />
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-83707419325415364412024-02-26T02:00:00.001-05:002024-02-26T02:00:00.134-05:00Put on this earth to teach us how to be – #DogMemoir #GoldenRetriever #Giveaway<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #990000;"></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-clz0GCqkwZ44iHu08Xh6QheXXo2HC5espObUBr8wXSr-97JmnfDd9dnINQNjgJUnx43q9iogSycLOk9gpUlP1t5LyPZ79P0uaRq0Vf7Hf1oMFbEQ4Che1EuDdTLhiG6KWMaSX9Qf866R4FGvUUdg37WUz35YvvKlSvVgUYDtntOoLQvdEEDFQYqUvehH/s600/TourBanner_Happy%20Harry%20.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Happy Harry tour banner" border="0" data-original-height="335" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-clz0GCqkwZ44iHu08Xh6QheXXo2HC5espObUBr8wXSr-97JmnfDd9dnINQNjgJUnx43q9iogSycLOk9gpUlP1t5LyPZ79P0uaRq0Vf7Hf1oMFbEQ4Che1EuDdTLhiG6KWMaSX9Qf866R4FGvUUdg37WUz35YvvKlSvVgUYDtntOoLQvdEEDFQYqUvehH/s16000/TourBanner_Happy%20Harry%20.gif" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><b><span style="color: #990000;">Blurb </span></b><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">"Nobody
who loves dogs will be able to resist your book! A magnificent love
story!"</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">-
Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson, international bestselling author of <i>Dogs
Never Lie About Love</i> and <i>When Elephants Weep</i>.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
her dog memoir <i>Happy Harry: A Magical Golden</i>, psychotherapist
Barbara Lampert, a lifelong dog lover, tells the story of her beloved
Golden Retriever, Harry. Like her first dog memoir, Harry's story
comes from her mostly uncensored daily journal and takes place in
Malibu, California.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Harry
was a genuinely free spirit - wild, and very wolf-like. Did all this
contribute to his being exceptionally happy? Perhaps.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Harry
was not only the happiest being Barbara's ever known, happy to the
very core of him, but also the bravest. More than once in his life,
Harry had to face true adversity, and each time, Barbara would look
at him in wonder, not fully understanding how a being could be so
brave and at the same time continue to be so happy.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Harry
literally pranced through life, with a joyous attitude that made
being around him like magic. Barbara fell in love with Harry. And as
you immerse yourself in Harry's story, it's likely you will too!
Happy Harry is unforgettable!</span></span></p>
<p align="center" class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><a name="_GoBack"></a>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
call Harry my calendar dog. Exquisite face. That’s what drew me to
him when he was nine weeks old. Sounds superficial, but I thought his
face was extraordinary. And this sounds superficial too, but I’d
hoped his face would stay as gorgeous when he grew up. Well, it has.
But you know, no matter what he turned out to look like, I knew I
would love him tremendously. What’s inside Harry is amazing!</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Harry
is the happiest dog I’ve ever known. Genuinely happy, from the core
of him. Mostly with a ball game. Harry can’t wait for the moment
when he can go out to play.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
first few years with Harry were insane. He was a maniac, wouldn’t
listen. Particularly when he was out of the house on a walk or at the
big field at the nearby school. We tried every kind of leash and
harness. We enlisted a dog trainer. Nothing worked. But little by
little, he’s getting better. Still pays scant attention when we’re
out of the house, but at least I don’t have the feeling he would
run away. Though he’s never off leash when we’re out. Never!</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Those
first years were so chaotic with him that I was resigning myself to
the possibility he might be a sociopath, because he seemed to not
care about rules, listening, or consequences. I needed to accept him
as he was. But now, at six, Harry has become incredibly devoted and
loyal. Our wild wolf has settled into his pack.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
at work right now and can’t wait to get home and see Harry. Give
him lots of kisses, get his over-the top joyful greeting with a soft
toy in his mouth. Seeing Harry brimming with enthusiasm makes me so
happy! I love him so much!</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Harry’s
adapting… But more than that, he’s still so joyful. His abundance
of happy energy is so wonderful to be around. He’s still putting
stuffed toy rabbits and balls in his mouth, particularly when he’s
really happy. Still comes to me with even more enthusiasm and his
head held even higher than usual when I say, “Hey Harry.” I love
saying that to him, and Harry seems to love hearing it. I only use
the “Hey” with Harry. It’s special, just for him. Something I
started saying to him a few years ago. To me, it’s a way of
emphasizing how cool Harry is. Yes, Harry is really cool, in the true
sense of the word. Unafraid, carefree. Still.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Dogs
are such special beings. I swear a big reason they were put on this
earth is to teach us how to be.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>A</b><b>bout
the Author</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5YjxR-SeTkRFL5IVEiLfHuElMjwW9XHcxRj9s3c40o-OEKp2XRPVv67yRPKArv7NGAHuv8syGn4GW9jVEMqLeML24wVknel_LfYomKGPmTLDdiaiDwtKgOrYxYH2XcyM1qmTY-ncWdB5JYhO9IGIxZ7aATeoEfGu7EtatAU9-sAui4pnmNFNwBX5_iizP/s400/Author%20Image.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Barbara Lampert author image" border="0" data-original-height="347" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5YjxR-SeTkRFL5IVEiLfHuElMjwW9XHcxRj9s3c40o-OEKp2XRPVv67yRPKArv7NGAHuv8syGn4GW9jVEMqLeML24wVknel_LfYomKGPmTLDdiaiDwtKgOrYxYH2XcyM1qmTY-ncWdB5JYhO9IGIxZ7aATeoEfGu7EtatAU9-sAui4pnmNFNwBX5_iizP/s16000/Author%20Image.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />My
passion is dogs! I’ve had dogs most of my life and hope to have at
least one by my side always. Dog energy is the best!</span></span><p></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
the author of two dog memoirs: Happy Harry: A Magical Golden and
before that Charlie: A Love Story. Each about one of my Golden
Retrievers. (I told you dogs are my passion!)</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
a psychotherapist, licensed for over thirty years, specializing in
relationships. .</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
was a flight attendant for nine years. And taught sociology at
several universities. I have two master’s degrees and a doctorate.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gardening
is another love – not as much as dogs, but right up there! I see my
garden as a work of art and garden as much as possible in my free
time. I love being in nature.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
live in Malibu, California with my husband David and, you guessed
it, our two wonderful Golden Retrievers, Oliver and Henry.</span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2lkiRcmuXvfKajZOAXlyGVpakWFW5izqsM_bKnxSARAbvrTROdAn8dMDx__dfwhNUq03IgWv69uNF9ziNvJFyuntgDV84tlRUA45bApGljbiREQ8WD_nczYHk4Pl6QHauzxBQjLOnUxoT3kf5CckMJKCbiBaTVM6WKXs-VNznh8AYl8GVk_aYZQdtU3g/s600/BookCover_Happy%20Harry.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Happy Harry book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ2lkiRcmuXvfKajZOAXlyGVpakWFW5izqsM_bKnxSARAbvrTROdAn8dMDx__dfwhNUq03IgWv69uNF9ziNvJFyuntgDV84tlRUA45bApGljbiREQ8WD_nczYHk4Pl6QHauzxBQjLOnUxoT3kf5CckMJKCbiBaTVM6WKXs-VNznh8AYl8GVk_aYZQdtU3g/s16000/BookCover_Happy%20Harry.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #990000;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Links:</span></span></b></span><p></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.happyharryamagicalgolden.com/happy-harry-a-magical-golden"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.happyharryamagicalgolden.com/happy-harry-a-magical-golden</span></span></a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CMTXK538"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CMTXK538</span></span></a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/barbara.lampert.50/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.facebook.com/barbara.lampert.50/</span></span></a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/barbaralampertauthor/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.facebook.com/barbaralampertauthor/</span></span></a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@barbara.lampert5"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.tiktok.com/@barbara.lampert5</span></span></a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/barbaralampert1/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.instagram.com/barbaralampert1/</span></span></a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/drbarbaralampert/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.pinterest.com/drbarbaralampert/</span></span></a></span></span></p><span style="color: #990000;"><b>
</b></span><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p><span style="color: #990000;"><b>
</b></span><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p><span style="color: #990000;"><b>
</b></span><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
author will award a $30 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner.</span></span></b></span></p>
<a class="rcptr" data-raflid="28e4345f4832" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f4832/" id="rcwidget_49vjg5x2" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-78542040371716025992024-02-25T02:00:00.001-05:002024-02-25T02:00:00.337-05:00Charity Sunday: For Girls (and Women) Who Code – #BlackHistoryMonth #InternationalWomensDay #CharitySunday<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ5zXfX503YtDbLi0l56ZrT3Vy_lp_DgjQu1T-9ESd296KhRT51UfPUBI-YeI8Qq6qKz_ZL1PnOKMEOnOrkbei6FN5lCvzWCldpWzSOvX61pvJftBkV6y-CP2RHQMky_vUgVLjbeYpE-QESm_xu9Dh36GAfscitSUorWv017ZSC5XY2S09R6WLTFG22xlG/s600/2024CharitySundayBanner.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Charity Sunday Banner 2024" border="0" data-original-height="395" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ5zXfX503YtDbLi0l56ZrT3Vy_lp_DgjQu1T-9ESd296KhRT51UfPUBI-YeI8Qq6qKz_ZL1PnOKMEOnOrkbei6FN5lCvzWCldpWzSOvX61pvJftBkV6y-CP2RHQMky_vUgVLjbeYpE-QESm_xu9Dh36GAfscitSUorWv017ZSC5XY2S09R6WLTFG22xlG/s16000/2024CharitySundayBanner.jpg" /></a></div> <p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Welcome
to the February Charity Sunday blog hop! As usual, I am featuring a
worthy cause, giving you an excerpt to thank you for visiting, and
asking for your comments. For each comment you leave, I will make a
donation to my chosen charity.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">This
month I am once again supporting <a href="https://girlswhocode.com/"><i>Girls
Who Code</i></a>, an organization that works to increase female
participation in STEM, especially in computer technology and with a
special focus on underrepresented groups and people of color. I
strongly believe in their core principles: bravery, sisterhood and
activism. </span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2nBJ1MXUO8wxTcHZViKsA5sKn6pjMfWP3tSBznWlXtMgCmbvrGo4aDXPpnDXsMBT4MekWJyQsI_PySiBR-cv1JwkCX0X01E0QioZwDjpRctbGLSqkU0D_RojURR1iC1slpV3j4dWV3XPO5fjWBm9GCWFJbiCtANMFbKbbJpSbYUhoHdQXPPVClz-Cb5gy/s330/girlswhocodelogo.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Girls Who Code logo" border="0" data-original-height="153" data-original-width="330" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2nBJ1MXUO8wxTcHZViKsA5sKn6pjMfWP3tSBznWlXtMgCmbvrGo4aDXPpnDXsMBT4MekWJyQsI_PySiBR-cv1JwkCX0X01E0QioZwDjpRctbGLSqkU0D_RojURR1iC1slpV3j4dWV3XPO5fjWBm9GCWFJbiCtANMFbKbbJpSbYUhoHdQXPPVClz-Cb5gy/s16000/girlswhocodelogo.png" /></a></span></span></div> <p></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
a woman engineer myself. My path was easier than that of many young
women; I came from a white, middle-class family with a strong
commitment to education as well as a belief in female equality. I
also had bold and creative female role models (though none of them
was in tech). How much harder would it have been for me if I’d been
born in a Black ghetto, or to a Syrian refugee family, or to a
conservative, rural family struggling to survive through farming?</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You
can read more about Girls Who Code and their various activities on
their <a href="https://girlswhocode.com/about-us">website</a>. (And I
hope you will...) Meanwhile, I will<span style="color: #990000;"><b> donate two dollars</b></span> to their work
for every comment I receive on this post.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Last
year I finished the third book in my trilogy featuring a female
engineer, Gillian Smith, who joins a secret society involved in
designing and building cutting edge erotic artifacts. So I have lots
of excerpts showing smart women solving engineering problems! Here’s
one from Book 2 of the series, <span style="color: #990000;"><i><b>The Journeyman’s Trial</b></i></span>.
Gillian and her lover Rafe have both been expelled from The Toymakers
Guild, as punishment for a rash act that endangered the organization.
Gillian has taken refuge in a cottage on the Cornish coast, where she
tries to come to terms with her banishment.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Enjoy!
And don’t forget to leave me a comment!</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF1VIJys1mckPbSOki06rg-4_Y483t-EOztBErdiqitbSjEY-h23JXnkpkIX6oDBQEqhjZlsrXmzQ6bDE-FA-NnNZ6MkFSnbDg2fCitVT8jzRtytDS_D3kWv6XYhSYr9Zs9kxc6_fF4IC1VMTkGw90G8748EbNaHJEH9ynWn-FajKOudxFBArsNnowT-jk/s600/JourneymansTrialCover_400.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Journeyman's Trial book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF1VIJys1mckPbSOki06rg-4_Y483t-EOztBErdiqitbSjEY-h23JXnkpkIX6oDBQEqhjZlsrXmzQ6bDE-FA-NnNZ6MkFSnbDg2fCitVT8jzRtytDS_D3kWv6XYhSYr9Zs9kxc6_fF4IC1VMTkGw90G8748EbNaHJEH9ynWn-FajKOudxFBArsNnowT-jk/s16000/JourneymansTrialCover_400.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt
(PG)</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
sudden revelation stunned her. If Rafe did reject the Guild, then he
was not, after all, the soul mate he had seemed.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">As
fellow journeymen, their paths aligned. They shared a common set of
goals and values, dedicating both their erotic creativity and their
technical abilities to the Guild’s mission. Members of Randerley’s
wanton and uninhibited community, they belonged to an elite group of
natural libertines, a handful of brave souls committed to answering
the call of desire.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">An
outsider would never understand the bonds that linked the Guild
members to one another. And despite several years of experience at
Randerley, if Rafe were to turn his back on the Master and his
perverse flock, he would become an outsider.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Intense
grief swept through her, as though she’d already lost him. At the
same time, she felt a new clarity and strength of purpose. She knew
her own mind and heart and had made her own choice. Over Rafe’s
decisions, she had no power. Only when she’d completed her
banishment would she know the outcome.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Meanwhile,
she could make herself useful. In response to Amelia’s suggestion,
Gillian had brought her experimental Analytical Engine with her to
Cornwall. This interlude of isolation was an ideal opportunity for
her to address the difficulties that had previously frustrated her,
with no competing tasks and no sensual distractions.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Exhausted
by emotion and her hours of walking, she fell asleep by the fire. The
next morning, however, crisp sunlight woke her. After dressing and
stirring the embers on the hearth into a blaze, she breakfasted on
hot tea, brown bread and curd. Then she pulled the complex mechanism
from her luggage and set it on the table near the hourglass.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
worked until well past noon, refreshing her memory regarding the
modes of failure she’d observed during her last efforts with the
device. When the usual boy from the village arrived to deliver
provisions, she realised she was ravenous, but she didn’t want to
take the time to cook lunch. She grabbed an apple, a hunk of cheese
and more bread, and returned to her contemplation of the recalcitrant
machine.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">It
appeared to be consuming the instructions encoded on the perforated
paper strip. The problem seemed to lie in translating them into
actions. She’d built a small, highly simplified model of the
punishment rack to use for testing, really just a set of levers and
gears intended to represent one percussive instrument like a paddle
and one reciprocating item like a dildo. These components did in fact
move in response to her programme, but in an uncoordinated, erratic
manner.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Had
she made mistakes in implementing the engine? She’d followed Lady
Lovelace’s notes faithfully, with the exception of one or two
improvements that had seemed obvious. Could her minor enhancements be
responsible for the poor performance? Anything was possible. Indeed,
Lady Ada’s design might contain flaws; Ada Lovelace had never
actually built an instance of her celebrated engine, having been more
interested in the theory and its mathematical underpinnings. Going
back to the notes, Gillian reviewed them step by step, searching for
any omissions or for ambiguities she might have misinterpreted.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Around
two, Gillian put the work aside and went out walking. The skies had
cleared since the previous day and the views from the headlands were
glorious. Despite her frustration with her development efforts, she
found her spirits rising. She still had more than two weeks. She’d
solve the puzzle eventually and return to Randerley triumphant, with
the solution in hand.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Stopping
to catch her breath, she gazed out at the sea. It was unusually calm.
Overhead, the lowering sun painted the streaked clouds in shades of
pink and orange. She’d walked all the way to Porthcumo, almost five
miles. To the south, she could just make out the rhythmic pulsing of
Wolf Rock Lighthouse. The open vista and the distant horizon were a
marked contrast to the rolling country around Randerley.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gratitude
swelled in her chest. Amelia had been generous in offering this
simple, peaceful haven. Mrs. Featherstone, at least, seemed to want
her to come back. Gillian was determined to earn her redemption in
the Governing Director’s eyes.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">By
the time she’d returned to the cottage, it was pitch dark. Gillian
made herself a simple supper, read for a while by the light of a
candle, then lay down on the narrow iron-framed bed. All the doubts
churning in her mind had subsided: her shame and regret at having
endangered the Guild; her fear that they wouldn’t accept her back;
the wistful longing for Rafe’s presence and the craving for his
touch. She drifted into sleep, relaxed and at peace, and woke alert
and energised. Today, perhaps, she’d unravel the riddle.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
did not in fact get the engine to function correctly that day, or the
next. However, she forced herself to remain calm and focused.
Persistence and discipline were the key to progress. She disassembled
the engine, examined each of its many parts for imperfections, then
put it back together, step by step. Each time she integrated a new
component, she tested its function using sets of minimal
instructions.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her
efforts did not lead to success, but they built her confidence in the
physical construction of the engine. As far as she could tell, it had
been implemented correctly. The crux of the issue must lie elsewhere.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-GB">As
the days ticked by, she worked and waited for the moment when she
could rejoin the fellowship of the Guild. The answer came to her on
January 31</span><sup><span lang="en-GB">st</span></sup><span lang="en-GB">,
which happened to be her twentieth birthday. </span></span></span>
</p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She’d
expected to celebrate this milestone in the company of her fellow
engineers at Randerley. Indeed, she’d imagined the Master might
organize another erotically-charged gathering, sharing more of his
magical winter wine. Still, she didn’t waste mental energy on what
might have been.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
did allow herself a glass of Burgundy with her birthday supper of
cold chicken and boiled potatoes. The single room where she’d spent
nearly a month felt warm and cosy, lit by a merry fire and a pair of
oil lanterns. She raised her glass – a simple tumbler, not a wine
goblet – and smiled. Her voice was loud in her ears. “Happy
Birthday, Gillian Smith! Here’s to another year of new adventures
and new insights.”</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Given
her abstinence over the past weeks, the wine went straight to her
head. Giggling, she refilled her tumbler. The Analytical Engine
caught her eye, carefully put aside on the far corner of the table
along with her tools and her notebook. “And here’s to you, you
bloody stubborn machine,” she continued. “Sooner or later I’ll
figure out how to make you obey me!”</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Something
shifted at the back of her mind, loosened perhaps by the alcohol.
Maybe what she needed was commands. Her symbolic language for
controlling the engine had specific representations for each possible
instrument and each individual movement. Perhaps that was the wrong
level of abstraction. If she could generalise the actions, that might
permit smoother reactions...</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
wasn’t about to try out her theory while she was tipsy. The next
day, though, she began to sketch out a new grammar for her
programmes. It took her until the third of February to create a
paper-based sequence of instructions using her revised approach.
Holding her breath, she watched the paper slide between the rollers
that fed it to the engine. For a moment nothing happened. Then the
miniature paddle began to swing, at a slow, even tempo, just as she’d
intended.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">By
Boole and Babbage! That’s it!” Jumping to her feet, she danced a
little jig around the table. “I’ve done it! The Master will be so
pleased!”</span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Don’t
forget to leave a comment! Every one helps make the dreams and
ambitious of smart young women become reality.</b></span></span></span></p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<p lang="en-GB" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p><hr />
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<p></p>Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-67955450439964109822024-02-22T02:00:00.001-05:002024-02-22T02:00:00.362-05:00When did I let it get this bad? #Memoir #StepMother #Giveaway<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAXA_pLcFVMvuphNuqTHstvMKxYh86uHIkNmhSkWuUY9XLgZ2C9oiQH1b-2WtVBDKtvR4YjcgdZE2avqW_uNanT9IXBDNujoMxun2FsDvrXWAvTJ7waH9fYnfnT643LH07cuHLsrHTit3bET_usZXdO6HKYkmGwafcnDmuX1-Ldk0mr6mxHHoEQJl8g7c/s600/Tour%20Banner_Mamacadabra%20(1).gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Mamacadabra tour banner" border="0" data-original-height="335" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAXA_pLcFVMvuphNuqTHstvMKxYh86uHIkNmhSkWuUY9XLgZ2C9oiQH1b-2WtVBDKtvR4YjcgdZE2avqW_uNanT9IXBDNujoMxun2FsDvrXWAvTJ7waH9fYnfnT643LH07cuHLsrHTit3bET_usZXdO6HKYkmGwafcnDmuX1-Ldk0mr6mxHHoEQJl8g7c/s16000/Tour%20Banner_Mamacadabra%20(1).gif" /></a></b></span></span></div><p></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>B</b><b>lurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Starting
her third year of marriage, Carrie Monroe O’Keefe had already been
on the roller coaster of extreme highs and lows of a newly blended
family. Thinking she could do a better job of navigating marriage,
stepmotherhood, working full time, and all of the things, she
embarked on a year of “what if.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Settling
into her role as wife and mom, she tried to find ways to do things
better, see things differently, and reframe her thinking to create a
better home for her family and to feel more at home herself. With
humor, unwavering honesty, vulnerability, and sarcasm, Carrie finds
her way through the year and to her true self.</span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">From
Chapter: This House is Not a Home (Currently)</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s
a bright Saturday morning and I’m looking around my kitchen
wondering when, exactly, I let it get THIS bad. The dishwasher has
been run, but nobody has bothered to unload it, resulting in piles of
dirty dishes in and around the sink. There are empty cereal boxes
lined up, I assume, so I can cut out the Box Tops for Education
labels…because I’m the only one who can what…use scissors?
Break down the boxes for recycling? Throw away the empty bag inside
the boxes that once held cereal?</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Speaking
of recycling, there’s a bag of recycling on a stool waiting to be
taken out on our “next trip” out of the house. It’s been there
for three days and we have, in fact, left the house several times in
those three days.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
clincher, though, is the kitchen table. Our puppy has a best friend
that lives next door. He comes over to our back deck door and barks
for Sullivan to come out to play. They wrestle, run around,
investigate, bark at each other, bark at passersby, lay down to rest,
and then start over. When they’re out and I’m working or writing,
I bring my laptop up to the kitchen table so I can check on the dogs
from time to time.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">At
this very moment, I’m sitting at my kitchen table and surrounding
my laptop are:</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> One
little girl’s black shoe.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> One
little girl’s gold shoe.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> One
little girl’s pink slipper.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The
Nancy Drew book we’re currently reading.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Large
bag of colored pencils.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Pair
of my husband’s dirty socks.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Empty
napkin holder on its side.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> The
art project brought home by my littlest little girl.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Pad
of paper with my work notes scribbled on it.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Three
place mats (one was a casualty of yesterday’s juice fiasco).</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> One
black marker.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> Work
documents of my husband’s.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
•<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> A
partially completed drawing.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">My
kitchen table isn’t even big! How, or perhaps a better question is
WHY, is there so much sh*t sitting on it?!! And does anybody else
find it a teensy bit disconcerting that there are two shoes, a
slipper, and dirty socks on the table at which we EAT OUR MEALS?
Anyone???</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>A</b><b>bout
the Author</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeNyLBXbng3lbMVRxau_JoV98ormXD56hcZLWE8NqlVcER5NA2SVzMEAOwqqQzKgWDUGLEGVe9SnblmwHLmshrC0Tmw4yB80iK_MP82X2yNblhPvTXStzA510zwb5CDl4l_UmzJ0K5m-85MUBeuDd1BWMBNb8uqeorwz2tQUXhFf-2_8OxE9W2dE9Gc5J/s450/author%20image.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Author image" border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIeNyLBXbng3lbMVRxau_JoV98ormXD56hcZLWE8NqlVcER5NA2SVzMEAOwqqQzKgWDUGLEGVe9SnblmwHLmshrC0Tmw4yB80iK_MP82X2yNblhPvTXStzA510zwb5CDl4l_UmzJ0K5m-85MUBeuDd1BWMBNb8uqeorwz2tQUXhFf-2_8OxE9W2dE9Gc5J/s16000/author%20image.jpeg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Carrie
Monroe O’Keefe started blogging about her life by sharing stories
of marriage, stepmotherhood, and how to navigate it all on
mamacadabra.com in 2012. People said they loved reading the posts, so
she kept writing. In addition to blogging, she released her
middle-grade fiction book, <i>The Whole Truth</i>, in 2019. </span></span>
<p></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Carrie
lives outside of Minneapolis with her husband, two daughters, and dog
Finlay. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.mamacadabra.com/"><span style="color: black;">http://www.mamacadabra.com</span></a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/book/1144367657?ean=9781733629935">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/book/1144367657?ean=9781733629935</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Mamacadabra-Poof-Youre-mom-now/dp/1733629939/ref=sr_1_1?crid=6S6666ZKYBPY&keywords=mamacadabra&qid=1701785813&sprefix=mamacadabra%2Caps%2C448&sr=8-1">https://www.amazon.com/Mamacadabra-Poof-Youre-mom-now/dp/1733629939/ref=sr_1_1?crid=6S6666ZKYBPY&keywords=mamacadabra&qid=1701785813&sprefix=mamacadabra%2Caps%2C448&sr=8-1</a></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Instagram:
@monroeokeefe </span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwqqL27gFOCvjxtsPnWyRWm6DTFwBrcnsS78gM5VY1twVT-o4Mh5e32-EdRslWiulsRtbbybnVp5t5U3o_nBiuCiNK_lIwe9IIGCM4FrbhRn0bJYYfAhYFadTfwj3DAI6HgnqxzogbW_vbD2dtZWXG757HU7TDBoSiShyphenhyphendW-q4_0jxelftJquFxQee2cVo/s585/BookCover_Mamacadabra.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Mamacadabra book cover" border="0" data-original-height="585" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwqqL27gFOCvjxtsPnWyRWm6DTFwBrcnsS78gM5VY1twVT-o4Mh5e32-EdRslWiulsRtbbybnVp5t5U3o_nBiuCiNK_lIwe9IIGCM4FrbhRn0bJYYfAhYFadTfwj3DAI6HgnqxzogbW_vbD2dtZWXG757HU7TDBoSiShyphenhyphendW-q4_0jxelftJquFxQee2cVo/s16000/BookCover_Mamacadabra.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: #990000;">The
author will award a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner.</span><br /></b></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</p>
<a class="rcptr" data-raflid="28e4345f4798" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f4798/" id="rcwidget_qxj592lf" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-17060851089746697872024-02-21T02:00:00.011-05:002024-02-21T02:00:00.252-05:00It’s not safe here after dark – #ParanormalRomance #BlackHistoryMonth #MRFWHooks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXeqX5B9OODDF98GY1L9qjd6XcJZWAHttUyau0MVG5ANk2bVquZw3w0Jt7_Vzeo1b1pBMHXjCYFvIJA_VjXgYRQTq9PxsiMyrWsdPiYmeHmPVGd5aVgdmkP-1wuXzWAIMpYDbXS2fp697qJz9Edobm8neJhZhKbXb4dootBEB5QDl7DcixS4iXEoLCCQPi/s600/TheEyesOfBastBanner_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Eyes of Bast banner" border="2" data-original-height="208" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXeqX5B9OODDF98GY1L9qjd6XcJZWAHttUyau0MVG5ANk2bVquZw3w0Jt7_Vzeo1b1pBMHXjCYFvIJA_VjXgYRQTq9PxsiMyrWsdPiYmeHmPVGd5aVgdmkP-1wuXzWAIMpYDbXS2fp697qJz9Edobm8neJhZhKbXb4dootBEB5QDl7DcixS4iXEoLCCQPi/s16000/TheEyesOfBastBanner_600.jpg" /></a></div>
<p></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Welcome
to this week’s MFRW Book Hooks blog hop!</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Last
week I took a break for Valentine’s Day, but today I’m returning
to my February theme of Black History Month, featuring excerpts from
my books that feature Black characters.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
should say that when I write a story, I don’t usually plan the race
of my characters ahead of time. Sometimes the question is embedded in
the premise, as was the case with <i>Fin d’Espoir</i> two weeks ago.
Often, though, I just get a feeling about a character’s background
and ethnicity. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
<span style="color: #990000;"><b><i>The Eyes of Bast</i></b></span>, which I am featuring today, both the heroine and
the hero are Black. They could have been something else. On the other
hand, Shaina’s Caribbean heritage is important to the plot. And I
suppose that it makes sense that a black cat shifter would be a Black
male in human form.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Anyway,
here’s today’s Hook. Enjoy!</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span lang="en-US"><b>Trust</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>
</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>your</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>
</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>heart.</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>
</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>Follow</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>
</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>your</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>
</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>dreams</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>.</b></span><span lang="en-US"><b>
</b></span></i></span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US">When
instinct tells Shaina to visit the feral cat trap she’s set in
Central Park, she listens to that inner voice. The sleek black cat
she finds has a terrible secret. Tom is an unwilling shape shifter,
cursed by a sorceress who craved a human plaything. Shaina vows to
defeat the vicious but seductive witch and save the man she believes
is her soul mate—though it might mean losing him forever. </span></span></span></p><p align="left" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US"> </span></span></span>
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieKKOY8aiWRlAFoJQosXagC1vzsB-7KF4hczrWT49Qe2hq97ia88SoIPXdfUf9Wjo_9A6u22do5aIYbOO1iysMPMiRlFzwvuAhN1N1grrmKo98eK_Mia6pCHhq8Gj5bCxhtF8dERYb-Hjfip7GZANzLeUiBJ5LukN6hQURsZ7OknQniChWybL6UsMcKH-S/s400/LogoBookHooks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="MFRW Book Hooks banner" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieKKOY8aiWRlAFoJQosXagC1vzsB-7KF4hczrWT49Qe2hq97ia88SoIPXdfUf9Wjo_9A6u22do5aIYbOO1iysMPMiRlFzwvuAhN1N1grrmKo98eK_Mia6pCHhq8Gj5bCxhtF8dERYb-Hjfip7GZANzLeUiBJ5LukN6hQURsZ7OknQniChWybL6UsMcKH-S/s16000/LogoBookHooks.jpg" /></a></b></span></span></div><p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The
Hook</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Go</i><i>
</i><i>check</i><i> </i><i>the</i><i> </i><i>old</i><i> </i><i>elm.</i><i>
</i></span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
swear, the voice was clear as crystal in my mind. <i>Lack</i><i> </i><i>of</i><i>
</i><i>sleep</i>, I told myself. <i>Or</i><i> </i><i>stress.</i><i>
</i><i>The</i><i> </i><i>cage</i><i> </i><i>is</i><i> </i><i>still</i><i>
</i><i>in</i><i> </i><i>my</i><i> </i><i>apartment.</i><i> </i><i>There</i><i>
</i><i>won</i><i>’</i><i>t</i><i> </i><i>be</i><i> </i><i>anything</i><i>
</i><i>there.</i><i> </i>But the urge to go back just wouldn’t let
go.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Trust
your instincts. With a sigh, I turned and headed for the park,
pulling my mace out of my purse as I walked.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
sky was still light enough for me to see shapes and shadows, even
under the trees. As I’d expected, the area beneath the elm was
empty, the grass trampled from my previous visit. Of course, no cats
revealed themselves. If there were ferals around, they’d be hiding
in the underbrush, wary of my scent and the sounds I made, despite my
attempts to move quietly.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Tom</i><i>
</i><i>wasn</i><i>’</i><i>t</i><i> </i><i>afraid</i><i> </i><i>of</i><i>
</i><i>me.</i><i> </i>The thought made me ache. He’d been such a
gorgeous, affectionate cat. I hoped he was okay.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hello.”
The voice was male, low and throaty. I jumped and whirled around. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
man stood behind me, a fairly young man with sleek, dark skin and a
wide, shy smile. Although his body appeared to be fit and muscular,
he held himself in an awkward manner, as if he had some subtle
handicap. His arms hung at his sides, his hands clenching and
unclenching as though he didn’t quite know what to do with them. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
gripped my mace more tightly. He didn’t appear at all threatening,
but I wasn’t taking any chances.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Um—what
are you doing here?” </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Nothing,
nothing…” He shrugged and scratched the curly black locks that
covered his head. “I heard your voice. I wanted to make sure you
were all right.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Had
I spoken aloud? I returned his smile, still uncertain whether I
should trust him. “I’m fine. Just taking a walk.” </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s
not safe here after dark, you know.” </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">His
earnest tone made me chuckle. I held up the can of mace. “I can
take care of myself.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Worry
furrowed his high forehead. “That won’t help against some of the
things that come out at night.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
chill shot through me. I shook it away. “I was just headed home
anyway.” </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Good.
You should be careful.” His smile returned, melting my last
vestiges of suspicion. He pronounced his English with a precision
that made me wonder if he spoke something else as his native
language. It wasn’t exactly an accent, but I could tell he wasn’t
a native New Yorker.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">What
about you?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh,
I know my way around here,” he answered. He ran his fingers through
his curls and arched his back a bit, as though stretching. Despite
that odd awkwardness, he was lithe and graceful. A brief pang of
desire shot through me. “And I have excellent night vision.
Exceptionally sharp hearing too.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
couldn’t figure out why, but something about him felt familiar.
“Have we met before?” I asked then cringed, realizing it sounded
like a pick-up line. “I mean…um… I don’t mean…” Hot blood
climbed into my cheeks, though the shadows were probably too dense
for him to detect my discomfort.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">His
bold laugh rang out in the growing darkness. “Maybe we <i>have</i>
met,” he said. “I live in the neighborhood. Do you?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Pretty
close,” I answered, alarm bells sounding in my head. No matter how
handsome and charming he was, I wasn’t about to give him my
address.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Well,
then, you never know. You said you were heading home. May I walk with
you?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Um…
Actually…” </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
took my arm without waiting for my permission.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">His
touch stopped me cold. It drove out rational thought. As if someone
had turned on a faucet, hormones poured into my blood. My nipples
tensed and my lower lips grew plump and slick. Fire tipped the
fingers resting on my bare forearm. I gasped, staring up in wonder at
his strong, even features, overcome by his imminent maleness.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
wanted to stretch out in the grass and pull him down on top of me. I
was dying to feel his weight on my chest, his hardness probing
between my thighs. Skin on skin was what I craved, with an urgency
I’d never experienced in my all my twenty-eight years.</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BcKRxzU6rs1qqorMnmGiSu3QY5TJ_A4595A5Pe16-gXny6RvveIB7FeSQ8dPG7Eny07vhiC_zQtzLqpnRQmYlYlKjQTCOsqHAQdHvtmo0iweyvIP7Y0AJq3UOpLznr3FK7unpyiAt8xZSx7ARN0DchmnNLugX6swNB9YCJhxHX3hSoCoF0Y4VjCE7ZUu/s600/TheEyesOfBastCover_400.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Eyes of Bast book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7BcKRxzU6rs1qqorMnmGiSu3QY5TJ_A4595A5Pe16-gXny6RvveIB7FeSQ8dPG7Eny07vhiC_zQtzLqpnRQmYlYlKjQTCOsqHAQdHvtmo0iweyvIP7Y0AJq3UOpLznr3FK7unpyiAt8xZSx7ARN0DchmnNLugX6swNB9YCJhxHX3hSoCoF0Y4VjCE7ZUu/s16000/TheEyesOfBastCover_400.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Find
all the buy links at:
<a href="https://www.lisabetsarai.com/eyesofbastbook.html">https://www.lisabetsarai.com/eyesofbastbook.html</a></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Be
sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book
Hooks!</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<hr />
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-62010693050091388112024-02-20T02:00:00.001-05:002024-02-20T02:00:00.374-05:00Join us for Charity Saturday, 25 February 2024! #CharitySundaySignup #Altruism #Marketing
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><b></b></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5R3WhF-T_Qo-ldY1VmmcB2ZJsFsrS42ANr5dqUWdPlLjBEIO4n3h5Spo6Cy_Gst7gOF0vvuLZ0pYT3C0kJJyRINwhyphenhyphenLngD4UHu3wR6qr5bkziXyw1AxoyUmcQovIBsWUp_Z_GGA-Md39BmKGUCnh8Ge0X29VCSWE7te0pklecZx5yR3Wedub8WfKIA5hv/s540/heart-762564_640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="crayon heart" border="0" data-original-height="360" data-original-width="540" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5R3WhF-T_Qo-ldY1VmmcB2ZJsFsrS42ANr5dqUWdPlLjBEIO4n3h5Spo6Cy_Gst7gOF0vvuLZ0pYT3C0kJJyRINwhyphenhyphenLngD4UHu3wR6qr5bkziXyw1AxoyUmcQovIBsWUp_Z_GGA-Md39BmKGUCnh8Ge0X29VCSWE7te0pklecZx5yR3Wedub8WfKIA5hv/s16000/heart-762564_640.jpg" /></a></b></i></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><b>Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/kaboompics-1013994/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=762564">Karolina Grabowska</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=762564">Pixabay</a></b></i></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Since
2017, I’ve been devoting the last Sunday in each month to a post
which features some worthy cause. Often, other bloggers join me in
this effort, turning the event into a blog hop. This month’s
Charity Sunday blog hop will take place this coming Sunday, the 28th
of January.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Charity
Sunday is a meme designed to give authors and bloggers a chance to
give back to the world—as well as, hopefully, </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">to
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">attract
new readers.<br /><br />How does it work? Each participant selects a
favorite charity. Before </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">the
date</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">,
you should prepare a blog post that: 1) talks about the charity and
why you support it; 2) provides a link to the charity; 3) includes an
excerpt from one of your books; 4) includes the code to show links to
other participating blogs.<br /><br />It’s fun if you can make the
excerpt relate somehow to your chosen charity, but this isn’t
required.<br /><br />For every comment left on your post, you commit to
giving some amount to the relevant charity. The specific charity and
the amount to donate are up to you. You can set an upper limit to
your donation if you want.<br /><br />If you’d like to participate in
the next Charity Sunday </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">o</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">n
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">February
25th</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">,</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">j</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">ust
sign up using the Linky List below. Please be sure that the link you
enter will lead directly to your Charity Sunday post, not just to the
home page of your blog. <br /></span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You
can get my <b><span style="color: #990000;">brand new 2024 Charity Sunday banner</span></b> here:</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="https://www.lisabetsarai.com/2024CharitySundayBanner.jpg"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.lisabetsarai.com/2024CharitySundayBanner.jpg</span></span></a></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />For
an example </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">post</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">,
check out </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">this
link from my last Charity Sunday:</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2024/01/charity-sunday-toward-cure-sma-research.html">https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2024/01/charity-sunday-toward-cure-sma-research.html</a></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-57056745733203015672024-02-19T02:00:00.001-05:002024-02-19T02:00:00.249-05:00An unsung heroine... #HistoricalFiction #WomensRights #Giveaway @CharBellDietz<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCfgpD_T73mJAt5b4hZefcLNESW1mnly2M617_jbc1QFlCMmw_1jNjZkxuLo-d9kwR2v-mtED2NT0ZUSTfgNioAdXaU8NHbtf0uq2yNC4KQUhBYMFVhG3OmYxJzp8oE9pvSO5DfevfclIOuHsppsP7UIMBTuEkIqSq4d-6g8RlCbK2X24kZDNndEcNbmZ/s600/TourBanner_The%20Spinster,%20the%20Rebel,%20the%20Governor.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Spinster, the Rebel and the Governor tour banner" border="0" data-original-height="335" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfCfgpD_T73mJAt5b4hZefcLNESW1mnly2M617_jbc1QFlCMmw_1jNjZkxuLo-d9kwR2v-mtED2NT0ZUSTfgNioAdXaU8NHbtf0uq2yNC4KQUhBYMFVhG3OmYxJzp8oE9pvSO5DfevfclIOuHsppsP7UIMBTuEkIqSq4d-6g8RlCbK2X24kZDNndEcNbmZ/s16000/TourBanner_The%20Spinster,%20the%20Rebel,%20the%20Governor.gif" /></a></div> <span style="color: #990000;">
</span><p></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>B</b><b>lurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Move
over Susan B. Anthony. There’s an unsung woman asking for the vote
224 years before you, and murderous rebels and bigoted gentlemen
can’t prevent spinster Lady Margaret Brent from wielding her power
to defend Maryland settlers from plunder and obliteration.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lady
Margaret Brent, compelled to right wrongs, risks her life by
illegally educating English women, placing her family at risk. She
fights to have a voice, yet her father and brothers exclude her from
discussions. Worried the kings’ men may know of her illegal
activities, she flees to the New World where she can enjoy religious
tolerance and own land, believing she will be allowed a voice. Once
in Maryland, she presents cases in provincial court where she’s
hired as the first American woman attorney, but there she uncovers
perilous actions, prompting her to build a fort to shield those
within from being murdered. Can Margaret Brent’s integrity and
ingenuity protect Maryland from being destroyed?</span></span></p>
<p align="left" class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
Wells girl covered her eyes with both hands. Margaret, ignoring the
buzzing of flies and the damp heat of the morning sun, worked to
untangle the girl’s words in her mind.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">If
the river doesn’t take me, then I shall have my baby alone and will
have to live with Master Cole, and I shall never see my dearTom
again.” With that, she burst into tears.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You
do not look like you are about to have a baby. Why do you say your
time is up?”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Master
Cole brought me here four years ago. He said after I had worked for
him for four years, I wouldn’t owe him a tad more, and now he says
I can’t leave, and so I might as well marry him. Lady Brent. I
worked hard from early morning until after dark every day, and my
time is up. Even the devil would say this isn’t right.” She
sniffed and looked away.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Margaret
set her jaw. “Heaven help us if other masters here in Maryland
treat their servants in this manner.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">There’s
nothing I can do.” She bit her lip. “I thought maybe the next
time you talked with Governor Calvert you might say something on my
behalf, and I pray my request is not one of cheekiness.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Mary.”
Margaret called sharply across to the soap making group. “Would you
please come here?”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">When
Mary finished saying something, she trotted over to the garden.
“Hello, Carrie. Are you not feeling well—your face seems
flushed?”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">So,
you are acquainted with Carrie Wells?” Margaret studied her sister,
slipped the basket from Carrie, and moved it into Mary’s hands.
“She brought these for us and herbs to scent your soap.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sometimes
on Sundays after church Carrie walks with me in the woods and shows
me barks, roots, and herbs that heal.” She glanced at the basket.
“Why, these are lovely.” She glanced at the young woman, then put
her hand on Carrie’s arm. “Are you still having trouble with
Jacob Cole?”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jacob
Cole is about to have troubles with her. Has Giles returned from Kent
for Assembly today? Will both our brothers be at the meeting?”
Margaret’s frogs roiled inside her. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">How
dare these men take advantage of their servants? </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
saw him and Fulke along with some other men heading to Lewger’s
home earlier.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Come,
Carrie Wells. We shall also attend Assembly.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">But—Margaret,”
Mary grabbed her arm. “Certainly, women would not be allowed—”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Margaret
shrugged Mary away, snatched Carrie Wells by her hand, and stomped
off down the path.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sister,”
Mary called after her, “you must take off that filthy apron. You’re
covered in soil.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Margaret
jerked it untied and slung it. “There is a difference between God’s
soil and men’s dirt. Carrie Wells and I are about to sort this very
thing out with all those fine gentlemen of Assembly.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>A</b><b>bout
the Author</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOoQkMhyHDMcrdwVvP5DWbCIcLqG0i3q5QrENW4qhn9Xjy9EW5Gi_L4tahbNNNtD9dq6ZlI6cBpXOMv0OGlvus6mVb5ULMSbFGSquGbOJps1SionOpGyZuTO2wPcmwh2KSaKdkg6Lj7jHnkVtXjxszDtPDSSIdveh0vYtoLxEGbekhOmi6C2JCqkkJNtt/s414/author%20image.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Author image" border="0" data-original-height="414" data-original-width="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpOoQkMhyHDMcrdwVvP5DWbCIcLqG0i3q5QrENW4qhn9Xjy9EW5Gi_L4tahbNNNtD9dq6ZlI6cBpXOMv0OGlvus6mVb5ULMSbFGSquGbOJps1SionOpGyZuTO2wPcmwh2KSaKdkg6Lj7jHnkVtXjxszDtPDSSIdveh0vYtoLxEGbekhOmi6C2JCqkkJNtt/s16000/author%20image.jpg" /></a></span></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><br />Charlene
Bell Dietz lives in the central mountains of New Mexico. She taught
kindergarten through high school, served as a school administrator,
and an adjunct instructor for the College of Santa Fe. After
retirement she traveled the United States providing instruction for
school staff and administrators. Her writing includes published
articles, children’s stories, short stories, and mystery and
historical novels</span></span></span><p></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;">Email:
chardietzpen @ gmail.com </span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Website:
</span></span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://inkydancestudios.com/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://inkydancestudios.com/</span></span></a></u></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;">Twitter <a href="https://www.twitter.com/CharBellDietz">@CharBellDietz</a> </span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Purchase:
<a href="http://apbooks.net/srg.html">http://apbooks.net/srg.html</a></span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtEviYAsc2hvATZDp9EZYE7EYmdJ9syK1_BQ2uAceXWmiczddg-JfTuo7a2BqOpqh86OguTdEENcjH-e-32Arr5EKs8JWgkVop5H3B0wPcMRPjJr7vBNetVEbwq-6B5kVVZxV-nUhlHbJZ1tfMMrc7sol73ro5-qlp5SGJifVnbR4hpyDeppRHuRf0yKhP/s600/BookCover_SpinsterRebelGovernor2ndEd.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Spinster, the Rebel and the Governor book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtEviYAsc2hvATZDp9EZYE7EYmdJ9syK1_BQ2uAceXWmiczddg-JfTuo7a2BqOpqh86OguTdEENcjH-e-32Arr5EKs8JWgkVop5H3B0wPcMRPjJr7vBNetVEbwq-6B5kVVZxV-nUhlHbJZ1tfMMrc7sol73ro5-qlp5SGJifVnbR4hpyDeppRHuRf0yKhP/s16000/BookCover_SpinsterRebelGovernor2ndEd.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
author will award a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly chosen
winner.</span></span></b></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></b></p>
<a class="rcptr" data-raflid="28e4345f4821" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f4821/" id="rcwidget_zih3ubfv" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js"></script>
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-47695671083213008902024-02-17T04:31:00.000-05:002024-02-17T04:31:04.953-05:00Never Too Late – #SaturdaySpanks #Dominance #Submission<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZdUj-hoLkykV5tzafHg9VJj0OYcnoDc53yRFv6CrJf76OhYsQiUmkS6LzkhSG_dbme0Gqp648p7pnkdBbr5R01UVfUkd56vV21ww1GE48i_KXeK6d4yvEbe_1N5gT-XC_qUxVzx9GuRXdqYDv3ITWqtwy4Q3Hbe3iuCTrpeXVNfxMewjKSZytVay01z04/s500/SaturdaySpanksBanner.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Saturday Spanks banner" border="0" data-original-height="336" data-original-width="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZdUj-hoLkykV5tzafHg9VJj0OYcnoDc53yRFv6CrJf76OhYsQiUmkS6LzkhSG_dbme0Gqp648p7pnkdBbr5R01UVfUkd56vV21ww1GE48i_KXeK6d4yvEbe_1N5gT-XC_qUxVzx9GuRXdqYDv3ITWqtwy4Q3Hbe3iuCTrpeXVNfxMewjKSZytVay01z04/s16000/SaturdaySpanksBanner.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ve
been re-reading some of my old BDSM stories. I’m amazed to discover
that they still arouse me, years after I wrote them. Indeed, these
desires were what led me to writing, long before I branched out into
other sub-genres of erotica and erotic romance. It’s intoxicating
to spend some time recreating the dark fantasies that captured me so
long ago.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">So
I thought I’d share one snippet for Saturday Spanks. It’s not as
light-hearted as my banner might suggest. The story is currently
available in my collection <span style="color: #990000;"><i><b>Bound and Breathless</b></i></span>.</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibPG8Xkgw7jTyG5Mtfs-tltHXDW6zKFjVXXbZMQ1doiPZ3hDneesld-ftK6hK5RSxvSYtGBtNqaer_3CxRBsnyCRgYue0QQtp3vDwS9WTvN2NnyGLxOHIqs7E6hyy81740oKYI5uQ2dbdKcnYMnLwRghleH2dbuoHqVt7psVeAruLg5esnku74tp1nwdWD/s600/BoundBreathlessCoverSmashwords_400.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Bound and Breathless book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibPG8Xkgw7jTyG5Mtfs-tltHXDW6zKFjVXXbZMQ1doiPZ3hDneesld-ftK6hK5RSxvSYtGBtNqaer_3CxRBsnyCRgYue0QQtp3vDwS9WTvN2NnyGLxOHIqs7E6hyy81740oKYI5uQ2dbdKcnYMnLwRghleH2dbuoHqVt7psVeAruLg5esnku74tp1nwdWD/s16000/BoundBreathlessCoverSmashwords_400.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p>"<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Good
evening, Elizabeth.” He doesn’t rise. He makes me come to him. I
stand before him, eyes cast down, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl.
Sweat pools under my arms, spoiling my best silk blouse. Moisture
gathers in my pussy.</span></span>
</p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Um
– I don’t even know your name,” I stutter. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Yes,
you do. Think.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
recreate my memory of him, from that fateful moment when I stepped
into the lift and found it occupied. Tall, a bit overweight, but
distinguished in his tailored charcoal suit. Black hair, dark eyes,
brows that arched in appreciation as he surveyed me. I struggle to
recall his badge. Even before he had spoken, I’d been flustered and
aroused. Distracted. “Mark?” I say finally, a half guess.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Good
girl. You see, you know more about me than you think you do. You know
you can trust me, don’t you?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">What?”
Before I understand what’s happening, he’s looming over me,
taking possession of my mouth, rolling my rigid nipples between his
finger and thumb and kindling sparks. He tastes of the after-dinner
mints they offer in the hotel coffee shop. His hands explore my body,
weighing my breasts, groping my ass. Helpless, beyond rationality, I
melt again.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You
know instinctively,” he murmurs in my ear. “I’m the master
you’ve dreamed of.” He nips the tender flesh of the lobe hard
enough to make me cry out. “I’m the one who will make you beg for
mercy and scream with pleasure.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">No,”
I say. “I haven’t. I can’t. I’m married.” My <i>pro forma</i>
protests are weak, even to my own ears. He is already tearing the
clothing from me. The first time his fingers graze my bare skin,
electricity sizzles along the surface, down to my cunt. I moan,
pressing against his still-clothed body. He chuckles and steps away.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Turn
around. Let me look at you. Especially at that fat ass.” My face
burns with embarrassment as I follow his instructions. It never
occurs to me to object. I feel his eyes on the butt that I can’t
seem to shrink no matter how many hours I spend on the Stairmaster.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lovely,”
he says and I glow with pride. He is pleased. That’s all I seem to
need. He strokes my ample backside. When he moves away again, I
nearly cry from the loss.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
want you across my lap. I want to turn that pale flesh of yours a
nice, rosy pink.” </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
obey. I can’t believe that I’m doing it, but I stretch myself
along his thighs. The fine wool of his slacks is distended at the
groin. I rub my damp bush against the hard mass of his erection, the
emotional pleasure almost trumping the physical. He wants me. That’s
all that really matters. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Be
still, slut!” He slaps my ass cheek with terrible force. The pain
is a shock. He brings his palm down again on the other side, even
harder. I whimper and try not to move.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
rains blows down on my tender flesh. Sometimes he lands a stinging
smack at the back of my plump thighs. Sometimes he catches me across
the crevice between my cheeks. The pain builds and builds until tears
blur my vision, but still he spanks me, again and again, with the
same ferocity he showed me in the elevator.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">My
ass feels as though it’s bleeding and raw, yet still he beats me.
His strength and stamina appear to have no limits. Floating in a red
sea of pain, I sense his jubilation. As much as he has me in thrall,
I’m also giving him what he needs. I know somehow he would stop if
I told him to do so. I can’t bring myself to that point. I don’t
want to disappoint him.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">When
he finally does stop, I hardly notice. I’ve grown accustomed to the
sharp sting and the deeper ache from earlier strokes. It’s all I’ve
ever known, all I want to know.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy</b><b>
</b><b>Links</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kinky
Literature:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/90-bound-and-breathless-passionate-kink/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/90-bound-and-breathless-passionate-kink/</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Universal
Amazon Link: </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://rxe.me/HJYMFC"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://rxe.me/HJYMFC</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smashwords:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1137659"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1137659</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Barnes
and Noble:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bound-and-breathless-lisabet-sarai/1141291883?ean=2940165822315"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bound-and-breathless-lisabet-sarai/1141291883?ean=2940165822315</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kobo:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/bound-and-breathless-passionate-kink"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/bound-and-breathless-passionate-kink</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Add
on Goodreads:
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58372150-bound-and-breathless"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58372150-bound-and-breathless</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-86861920188935335292024-02-14T02:00:00.015-05:002024-02-14T02:00:00.251-05:00To dream of her lover– #LGBTQ #ValentinesDay #99Cents #MFRWHooks<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclchaj80RJSbnlW0sl4YhCUCK15lq0Hn1C64roDbl6pn62vm4Tjw7oUvfkBIfawtHxTkNFQsrsy-xyWrjxzSK7KGMgDcMYDcCVY9dctNfc2X_sRfuQAKHLxccJP47xgoQvBWACUFOo4whFFH1iql2DrlcHIU6ePNYlxRSxREHXajbcEdprVxxbi1q9Zga/s600/ByMoonlightBanner_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="By Moonlight banner" border="0" data-original-height="258" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhclchaj80RJSbnlW0sl4YhCUCK15lq0Hn1C64roDbl6pn62vm4Tjw7oUvfkBIfawtHxTkNFQsrsy-xyWrjxzSK7KGMgDcMYDcCVY9dctNfc2X_sRfuQAKHLxccJP47xgoQvBWACUFOo4whFFH1iql2DrlcHIU6ePNYlxRSxREHXajbcEdprVxxbi1q9Zga/s16000/ByMoonlightBanner_600.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Greetings
and Happy Valentine’s Day!</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
marking the ultimate festival of romance with a brief but emotional
excerpt from my FF historical romance <span style="color: #990000;"><i><b>By Moonlight</b></i></span>. And
for the next few days, this book will be on sale at all outlets for<i><b>
<span style="color: #990000;">only 99 cents</span></b></i> as part of the <a href="https://iheartsapphfic.com/">I
Heart SapphFic</a> Valentine’s sale. Over 100 books are involved in
the event, all priced under a buck. The sale runs February 13 through
February 15. Stock up your eReaders!</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><b>Valentine:</b></i> <a href="https://iheartsapphfic.com/2024/02/13/ihs-99c-valentines-sale/">https://iheartsapphfic.com/2024/02/13/ihs-99c-valentines-sale/</a></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><b>Anti-Valentine:</b></i> <a href="https://iheartsapphfic.com/2024/02/13/ihs-99c-anti-valentines-sale/">https://iheartsapphfic.com/2024/02/13/ihs-99c-anti-valentines-sale/</a></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>She
risked all, loving an outlaw – especially a woman</i></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">In
her eighteen years on earth, Bess has never traveled more than twenty
miles from her Devonshire village. The raven-haired innkeeper’s
daughter has little time to dream of adventure as she labors from
dawn to dusk to keep her abusive father satisfied.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="en-US"><span style="font-style: normal;">Then,
at the weekly market in Tavistock town, she meets a handsome dandy
who claims her with a single stolen kiss. When the gallant gentleman
makes a midnight visit to the inn, Bess learns that her new lover is
none other than Kit Latour, a notorious French highwayman who has
been boldly relieving the local nobility of their valuables.
Well-aware of the risk she’s taking, Bess still offers herself to
the seductive outlaw. Even Kit’s darkest secrets cannot quench the
flames of her love.</span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSy_0-rLDgcfqupBZnh_0_wd19s5xhO6dJmsYtu6m9Y1Lyyy4ET-mwHcfNU2PDrUJuMaTH-4Cw0_bpDEIBTOuH_mUK9sgGdEhqRH5uYKbtZwazNGjndc0N3GqfD20Mb2oiHWZmIEsuFwRkFMqI0wR1G8EJMQCtkpoVkb31wGAFXjZ0Vr6Do_m7vfLDpNTK/s400/LogoBookHooks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Book Hooks Logo" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSy_0-rLDgcfqupBZnh_0_wd19s5xhO6dJmsYtu6m9Y1Lyyy4ET-mwHcfNU2PDrUJuMaTH-4Cw0_bpDEIBTOuH_mUK9sgGdEhqRH5uYKbtZwazNGjndc0N3GqfD20Mb2oiHWZmIEsuFwRkFMqI0wR1G8EJMQCtkpoVkb31wGAFXjZ0Vr6Do_m7vfLDpNTK/s16000/LogoBookHooks.jpg" /></a></b></span></span></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The
Hook</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Somewhere
in the distance, a cock crowed. Bess bent to kiss her drowsing lover.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You’d
best be off. It will soon be light.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kit
stirred. She pulled Bess down into a desperate embrace. Their breasts
mashed together. Below, their juices mingled, black curls tangling
with ginger. Kit’s greedy kiss just left Bess hungry for more.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
can hardly bear to leave you. But I’m after a fine prize today. If
my plan succeeds, I shall have more than enough to take you away with
me.” Kit slipped the fancy shirt over her head, hiding her small
but shapely bosom. She’d already donned her breeches.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Where
would we go?” Bess had never been more than twenty miles from the
village where she’d been born.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Back
to France, perhaps. Or to the colonies. As far away as possible from
the King and his soldiers. There’s nothing for me here, my sweet,
but a rope around my neck or a knife in my gut.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> <span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
chill seized her, though the hidden sun was already warming the
autumn air. “Do not speak of such things, Kit.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fully
dressed now, her lover swept her into a final kiss, then cupped her
cheek and gazed into her eyes. “Until tonight, bonny Bess. I’ll
come to you by moonlight—though Hell should bar the way.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> <span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
vaulted over the casement and clambered to the ground. Bess watched
from the window as Kit crept toward the stables to retrieve her
horse, Delilah. The sense of Kit’s cool palm on her face lingered,
long after the mare’s hoof beats had died away.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Somewhere
in the quiet inn-yard, a gate creaked. Bess held her breath. Now that
Kit was gone, she was newly aware of the dangers that threatened
them. She listened intently, but aside from another crow from the
early-rising rooster, all was silent.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
moon had set. The wind had fallen. In the east, the stars were
fading. An hour or two remained before dawn, when she needed to be
about her chores. Her eyelids drooped. She could afford to sleep, at
least for a while, to sleep and to dream of her lover.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>ONLY 99 CENTS THROUGH FEB 15! <br /></b></span></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy</b><b>
</b><b>Links</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kinky
Literature </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1183-by-moonlight-/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1183-by-moonlight-/</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">US</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C99C59RY"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C99C59RY</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">UK</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C99C59RY"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C99C59RY</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smashwords</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1413596"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1413596</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Barnes</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">and</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Noble</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/by-moonlight-lisabet-sarai/1143711659?ean=2940166073495"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/by-moonlight-lisabet-sarai/1143711659?ean=2940166073495</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kobo</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
- </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/by-moonlight-8"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/by-moonlight-8</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Apple
Books - </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6450718058"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6450718058</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Add</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">on</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Goodreads:</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/180643788-by-moonlight"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/180643788-by-moonlight</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Add
on BookBub:
<span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a href="https://www.bookbub.com/books/by-moonlight-by-lisabet-sarai">https://www.bookbub.com/books/by-moonlight-by-lisabet-sarai</a></u></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><b>Visit
the other MFRW authors celebrating the day of love!</b></span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span lang="zxx"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><b> </b></span></span></span></span></span></p>
<hr />
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-64818835400292915002024-02-13T02:00:00.009-05:002024-02-13T02:00:00.132-05:00True love, true passion – Happy Valentine’s Day! #Erotica #Bisexual #ValentinesDay<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivmBVTWcpPu-BWTr53JPi87-ubcDh6Tj9MI-MjzsTBbMR3NsIZp8cKTBT_4W3DBcJ15xnxGU9ykTYI4I6lkzEUCYefarmqaHM4ixkAbp1W0qZqO3gHY06k0BWSOvdkdpVl0C2om_qrKQ9z6rgSc1Us9p4bJDnDapDWtdq2TzIAs3AsuWgWViphfg3lrFMX/s600/ValentinesVisit400x600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Valentine's Visit book cover (Vegas Babes #4)" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivmBVTWcpPu-BWTr53JPi87-ubcDh6Tj9MI-MjzsTBbMR3NsIZp8cKTBT_4W3DBcJ15xnxGU9ykTYI4I6lkzEUCYefarmqaHM4ixkAbp1W0qZqO3gHY06k0BWSOvdkdpVl0C2om_qrKQ9z6rgSc1Us9p4bJDnDapDWtdq2TzIAs3AsuWgWViphfg3lrFMX/s16000/ValentinesVisit400x600.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tomorrow
is February 14<sup>th</sup>, the traditional celebration of love and
romance. For me, the holiday conjures up sensual memories and
lascivious fantasies. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ll
have a pure romance excerpt for you tomorrow, as part of the MFRW
Book Hooks blog hop. Today I have something spicier, a snippet from
my erotic novella, <span style="color: #990000;"><i><b>Valentine’s Visit: Four-Way Friend Swap</b></i></span>.
This is Book Four of my five book Vegas Babes series, but it can be
read as a standalone.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Jake
and Fran and Ted and Annie celebrate Valentine’s Day</i><i>—Vegas
style</i><i>!</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">When
Jake and Fran are invited to Las Vegas spend Valentine’s weekend
with Jake’s old friend Ted and his curvaceous ginger-haired wife,
they’re not sure what to expect. The last time they saw Ted and
Annie, at the Vegas couple’s pre-wedding stag party, the four of
them had ended up in bed together. But maybe that was just a fluke.
There’s only one way to find out.</span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt
(Rated X)</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Franny!”
Jake tried unsuccessfully to escape from her embrace.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">What?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You’re
insatiable.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
reached between them to stroke his mostly hard dick. “And you’re
not?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s
your fault.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh,
is that so—?” A chirp from her phone interrupted her. With a
frown, she grabbed it off the dresser, expecting a text from her
boss. She was pleasantly surprised.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s
from Annie!”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ted’s
Annie?” Jake licked his lips. Franny knew what he was thinking.
They hadn’t seen his best friend and his delectable ginger-haired
wife since the couple’s wild wedding the previous summer. Fran
blushed, remembering the shenanigans that had gone on at their co-ed
stag party, especially the foursome she and Jake had shared with the
soon-to-be-wedded pair. Making love to Annie while Ted had plowed
Fran’s rear hole and Jake had taken Annie’s—that had to be one
of the most erotic experiences of her young but active life.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of
course.” She read further. “Oh! They’re inviting us to come
visit over Valentine’s weekend. They’ve got a new, two bedroom
apartment. They want us to stay with them.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Go
to Vegas? But what about work?” Jake shook his head. “I’m
still trying to prove myself to your father.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Fran
settled her hands on her full hips and glared at her husband. “I
told you, that’s not a problem. Dale can handle the restaurant for
a few days. You told me you’ve been grooming him to take over
another branch.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">But—”
Jake shrugged, looking helpless.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don’t
you want to see them?” She stepped nearer, then sank to her knees
on the carpet in front of him. His dick surged at her closeness. She
stuck out her tongue to gather a drop of pre-cum welling from the
tip. “Gorgeous Annie? And your best friend Ted?” Pursing her
lips around the bulb, she sucked gently. “Don’t you want to fuck
them?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Oh!—c’mon,
Fran—that might have been just a fluke. We shouldn’t assume— ”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Annie
says they’re having a Valentine’s party Saturday night. And that
they want us to meet their <i>friends</i>.” Fran paused to swallow
his erection and run her tongue up and down the taut length. He
tasted like pussy. That just reminded her of eating Annie. She <i>had</i>
to convince her reluctant spouse. “Her emoticon is definitely a
leer.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You
may just be reading things into her message—oh God, that feels
good! Don’t stop!”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
don’t think so.” She paused to slurp more of his pre-cum, then
take him deep into her throat. When she swallowed around his flesh,
he groaned in ecstasy. “Even if I am—it will still be great. Four
days in sunny Las Vegas. Lying around the pool. Drinking margaritas.
Ogling the girls on the Strip. Aren’t you sick of winter?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Once
more she gulped him down. Jake threaded his fingers through her curly
hair and guided her mouth where he wanted it. His thrusts grew
increasingly ragged as she pulled him closer to climax. Fran let him
take control for a few minutes before she drew back and let his rod
slip from her mouth.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don’t
tease!” her husband pleaded.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tell
me you’ll go with me,” she responded, running her thumb over his
knob and making him shudder. “Because I plan to take them up on the
invitation, even if you don’t.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy</b><b>
</b><b>Links</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kinky
Literature </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/4089-valentines-visit-fourway-friend-swap--vegas-babes-book-4/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/4089-valentines-visit-fourway-friend-swap--vegas-babes-book-4/</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">US</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NLBXZK5"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07NLBXZK5</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">UK</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07NLBXZK5"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07NLBXZK5</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smashwords</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/922797"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/922797</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Barnes</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">and</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Noble</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1130554745?ean=2940155973508"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1130554745?ean=2940155973508</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kobo</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/valentine-s-visit-four-way-friend-swap-vegas-babes-book-4"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/valentine-s-visit-four-way-friend-swap-vegas-babes-book-4</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Add</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">on</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Goodreads:</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43969420-valentine-s-visit"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43969420-valentine-s-visit</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-69718022314371720282024-02-12T02:00:00.006-05:002024-02-12T02:00:00.131-05:00Pleasurable Punishment – #HistoricalRomance #Steamy #Vikings @KateHillRomance<p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg63snNmOw0B2tpOQqMK4fOCgaJRwK8WFpmx4Qo05RVzTTR0TzMygK4-feBg-DiFKez1XIDrvGVq6WcMLJbVKQv_fcrpmHX0tX5e7I6CcEXv0nD598K0J0BGlDbONXwo45PJ-qIuR1WFYAdagibpHaSpcgnh3b_Ogk4_6s2_4J_BiJVIxNjV94af5NUFnoZ/s560/Northman's%20Passion%20(350%20x%20560%20px).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Northman's Passion book cover" border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg63snNmOw0B2tpOQqMK4fOCgaJRwK8WFpmx4Qo05RVzTTR0TzMygK4-feBg-DiFKez1XIDrvGVq6WcMLJbVKQv_fcrpmHX0tX5e7I6CcEXv0nD598K0J0BGlDbONXwo45PJ-qIuR1WFYAdagibpHaSpcgnh3b_Ogk4_6s2_4J_BiJVIxNjV94af5NUFnoZ/s16000/Northman's%20Passion%20(350%20x%20560%20px).jpg" /></a></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
bold warrior's desire for his king's daughter might end in
destruction.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">From
the moment Erik Ice Tooth sees Bera, daughter of his king, he wants
her as his wife. A man accustomed to getting what he desires, he’s
surprised by her adamant refusal of his advances.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Disgusted
by the foul brute who demands her company, Bera makes her feelings
for Erik clear. She wants nothing to do with him, even if he is one
of her father’s favorite warriors and her only other marriage
offers are from a pair of loathsome brothers.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Erik
abducts Bera with the hope of winning her heart and saving her from
marrying one of two evil men, but his rash act will come at a high
price.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt
</b><b>(Explicit)</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">All
this over a woman,” Grim said with disgust. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Erik
draped an arm around Bera and held her close. “Some women are worth
it.” </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
thought you said you believed nothing happened?” Grim demanded. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
do believe you. If I didn’t, you wouldn’t still be breathing,
even if it is only through one nostril.” </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’d
rather have one nostril than be half blind.” </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Erik’s
lip twisted in a wicked grin. “I don’t know about that. Odin had
just one eye, so I’m not in bad company.” </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">At
least he gave it up for the sake of wisdom,” Grim said.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">What
do you want with me?” Bera asked, wary. If he believed they were
innocent yet had still punished Grim, what did he intend to do with
her? </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Many
things, beautiful Bera,” he said, guiding her toward the storage
shed. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Do
you plan on beating me too?” she asked with more courage than she
felt. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “Of course not.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Inside
the storage shed, he closed the door behind them and dragged a barrel
in front of it. They were quite alone amidst the many barrels and
trunks. He sat on a trunk and pulled her face-down across his lap.
Before she had a chance to react, he pulled up her dress and smacked
her bottom. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">What
are you doing?” she shouted, struggling to stand, but it was
impossible. He held her down easily and smacked her buttocks again,
not painfully, but just enough to smart. “I thought you said you
weren’t going to beat me?” </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">This
isn’t beating. This is pleasurable punishment. There’s a great
difference.” Again he struck her behind. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Let
me up, you great oaf! Oh!” she cried when his big hand smacked her
firmly. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
clenched her buttocks, prepared for the next whack. By now her ass
felt warm and tingly. After the next smack he lightly caressed her
stinging bottom and the sensation aroused her more than she wanted to
admit. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You
have no reason to do this. Grim and I did nothing wrong.” </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">This
has nothing to do with Grim,” he said. “I know you did nothing
wrong.” </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then
why…” Her voice trailed off as he dipped his hand between her
legs. His fingers slid easily inside her, since she was quite slick
with passion. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Erik,
don’t,” she breathed, her eyes fluttering shut. “Not here.” </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Why?
It’s as private as the bed closet.” He guided her to her feet and
positioned her in front of him, her back to him. Holding up her
skirt, he began covering her backside with kisses. His warm, wet
tongue swept over her flesh, made sensitive from the pleasurable
punishment.</span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAvwBrUM8la1_eLzbjQrzYWSWqmpnclFagOGoxwgxR-8Gs4GtSc3Axoy3xjcl5jtRe-oRLictZYf4l-czzQTL4s2mVYQuzYnzEk7oWubBd19bnn8y8sHMmE9WBWHye7k9xRdyevfo_k1nJl9mx4XSUs3ERWOR98uBCOzCJnoSdfSmyElu48DSVI6snJw6U/s600/Northman'sPassionTeaser1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Northman's Passion teaser" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAvwBrUM8la1_eLzbjQrzYWSWqmpnclFagOGoxwgxR-8Gs4GtSc3Axoy3xjcl5jtRe-oRLictZYf4l-czzQTL4s2mVYQuzYnzEk7oWubBd19bnn8y8sHMmE9WBWHye7k9xRdyevfo_k1nJl9mx4XSUs3ERWOR98uBCOzCJnoSdfSmyElu48DSVI6snJw6U/s16000/Northman'sPassionTeaser1.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><p></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Purchase
Links</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon:
</span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CTHL2921"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CTHL2921</span></span></a></u></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Apple:
</span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://books.apple.com/us/book/northmans-passion/id6476891602"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://books.apple.com/us/book/northmans-passion/id6476891602</span></span></a></u></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Barnes
& Noble:
</span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/northmans-passion-kate-hill/1021580687"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/northmans-passion-kate-hill/1021580687</span></span></a></u></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kobo:
</span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/northman-s-passion-2"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/northman-s-passion-2</span></span></a></u></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smashwords:
</span></span><span style="color: blue;"><u><a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1514331"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1514331</span></span></a></u></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>About
the Author</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kate
Hill is a vegetarian New Englander who loves writing romantic
fantasies. When she's not working on her books, Kate enjoys reading,
working out, watching horror movies, and researching vampires and
Viking history. She runs the Compelling Beasts Blog that is dedicated
to antagonists, antiheroes, and paranormal creatures. Kate also
writes as Saloni Quinby.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Visit
her online at </span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://www.kate-hill.com</u></span></span></span></a><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">.
Join her newsletter at </span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://kate-hill.com/index.php/newsletter</u></span></span></span></a><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Social
Links</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Website:
</span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://kate-hill.com/</u></span></span></span></a></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Blog:
</span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://kate-hill.com/blog/</u></span></span></span></a></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Newsletter:
</span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://kate-hill.com/index.php/newsletter/</u></span></span></span></a></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon:
</span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://www.amazon.com/Kate-Hill/e/B002BLS7OW</u></span></span></span></a></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">BookBub:
</span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kate-hill</u></span></span></span></a></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Goodreads:
</span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16157.Kate_Hill</u></span></span></span></a></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Pinterest:
</span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://www.pinterest.com/katehillromancewritingandmore/_saved/</u></span></span></span></a></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tumblr:
</span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://www.tumblr.com/blog/katehillromancewritingandmore</u></span></span></span></a></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Twitter:
</span></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><span style="color: blue;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><u>https://twitter.com/KateHillRomance</u></span></span></span></a></p>
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-48920099356507474122024-02-10T07:05:00.000-05:002024-02-10T07:05:01.219-05:00Enter the Dragon – #ChineseNewYear #AsianAdventures #Giveaway<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3PSlpcwrMS_KGOMJ3WRf_ysyFxNvXNaFj0Id6yRjV9Vmj_gbD6_6TfuKXxxLQupQWZybjYfd96OvELCDNB2Y_rujObAwlKxDuduVknvoQU9AQwrzSIAYcCzzIpRdidIHNT9K-WosOE9WKAPmBZrCQajVl3rbF462bq8zHBDzjDAZhcLq33Lh5nWMgwh6R/s600/dragon.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="AI Year of the Dragon image" border="0" data-original-height="337" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3PSlpcwrMS_KGOMJ3WRf_ysyFxNvXNaFj0Id6yRjV9Vmj_gbD6_6TfuKXxxLQupQWZybjYfd96OvELCDNB2Y_rujObAwlKxDuduVknvoQU9AQwrzSIAYcCzzIpRdidIHNT9K-WosOE9WKAPmBZrCQajVl3rbF462bq8zHBDzjDAZhcLq33Lh5nWMgwh6R/s16000/dragon.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><i><b> Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/vilkasss-35420724/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=8479203">Vilius Kukanauskas</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=8479203">Pixabay</a></b></i></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Although some of my readers may not realize this, today is an
important day. It’s Lunar New Year, the first day of the Year of
the Dragon. The holiday is widely celebrated in Asia, not just in
China but also in Vietnam, Thailand, Singapore and Malaysia. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Given
how much time I’ve spent in Asia, I’m a bit surprised that I
don’t have a story set in China. For today’s celebration, you’ll
have to make due with an excerpt from<i><b> <span style="color: #990000;">Singapore Fling</span></b></i>,
Book 1 of my Asian Adventures series. This is an erotic romance short
with a lot of local color.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
hope you like it. If you do, leave me a comment.<span style="color: #990000;"> <b>I’ll give away
a free copy to one randomly chosen visitor.</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>In</i><i>
</i><i>the</i><i> </i><i>cleanest</i><i> </i><i>city</i><i> </i><i>in</i><i>
</i><i>Asia,</i><i> </i><i>things</i><i> </i><i>can</i><i> </i><i>still</i><i>
</i><i>get</i><i> </i><i>messy.</i></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Thai
entrepreneur Ploy Kaewkornwattanasakul has come to Singapore to close
a deal. Ploy needs to convince tech whiz Jason Chow to license his
ground-breaking innovation to her company on favorable terms. The
future of her startup depends on her negotiating skill. When she
meets Jason, though, she realizes she wants not just the invention,
but the inventor, too.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jason
Chow is a brilliant engineer, a successful businessman and a bit of a
rebel. He’s attracted to Ploy from the moment he sets eyes on her.
However, he doesn’t dare respond to her advances, for fear she’ll
discover his secret vice. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ploy
doesn’t understand why the sexy CEO has rejected her. She figures
she’ll have to content herself with the cold comfort of a signed
contract—unless the strength of Jason’s desire overwhelms his
shame.</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPlNgD4Q8f1FODfzTzRiE2l5fwzREU-zTZTrVUttErBsHTsMJ-S90HYJ0reGI0EGTXAlaTcP1YH575v4k5qFZkrIvctZnbvqNg_PMmkjzEAtFJLE7TEfMHD9x3NLwMqYHr44H2-rxpQvYKt2444pBKcnEFuirmS8DYZ49nVMjtYc2BI5FqXpQyysV9DcoS/s600/SingaporeFling400x600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Singapore Fling book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPlNgD4Q8f1FODfzTzRiE2l5fwzREU-zTZTrVUttErBsHTsMJ-S90HYJ0reGI0EGTXAlaTcP1YH575v4k5qFZkrIvctZnbvqNg_PMmkjzEAtFJLE7TEfMHD9x3NLwMqYHr44H2-rxpQvYKt2444pBKcnEFuirmS8DYZ49nVMjtYc2BI5FqXpQyysV9DcoS/s16000/SingaporeFling400x600.jpg" /></a></b></span></span></span></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She
glanced around at the other customers in the busy, noisy hawker
center, a mixture of shoppers and business people judging by their
clothing. Most alternated between animated conversation and shoveling
food into their mouths. Others sat glued to their phones, swiping
away with one hand while manipulating chopsticks in the other.
Everyone seemed to be in a hurry.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Three
tables away, though, she noticed an anomaly: a solitary young man,
reading a hard cover book. She couldn’t make out the title at that
distance—it could have been in Chinese, for all she could tell—but
whatever it was, it completely engrossed him. He was oblivious to the
bustle around him, including the frequent accusatory looks he
received from the cleaning staff. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
real, printed book! Ploy was surprised to see anyone his age opting
for dead trees as opposed to a touch screen.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">There
was nothing remarkable about the man himself. A bit taller than
average for a Singaporean, slender but not skinny, he had typical
Chinese features. He wore the dark pants and white shirt, sleeves
rolled up, that was the common business uniform in the steamy
climate. His slightly shaggy black hair fell into his eyes as he bent
over the book. A pair of dark-framed glasses and a phone rested on
the table next to him.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Something
about his utter stillness drew her, though. Attracted her, in fact.
She found his focused concentration exciting. This was a man with a
powerful will, a person who had no difficulty ignoring what did not
concern him. A bit of a rebel, too, given his willingness to flaunt
social convention in this aggressively polite city. Like her, he
wasn’t about to bow to the unreasonable demands of his inferiors.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ploy
licked her lips, tasting the residue of the chili sauce. Her nipples
tightened under her suit jacket. What would he be like in bed? Would
he take charge? Would he concentrate on her pleasure, with the same
single-mindedness with which he addressed his book?</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">New
heat simmered between her thighs as she tried imagining the young man
naked. This was a game she often played back in Bangkok, observing
and fantasizing about strangers. Once or twice, she’d gone further,
propositioning a guy she found attractive. She’d learned from those
disappointing experiences. Now and for the foreseeable future, at
least while she was building her company, she relied on her
imagination and the high-tech vibrator her younger sister had brought
back from the Netherlands to keep her sexually satisfied.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
relationship with one of her peers simply wasn’t possible. Oat was
a bright guy, and very sweet, but he and her other engineers had to
be off limits if she was going to maintain her authority as CEO. Her
mother’s matchmaking efforts had fallen flat. Most Thai men
couldn’t handle an intelligent, independent woman like Ploy.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy</b><b>
</b><b>Links</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Kinky
Literature -
</span></span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://kinkyliterature.com/book/1430-singapore-fling-asian-adventures-book-1/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">https://kinkyliterature.com/book/1430-singapore-fling-asian-adventures-book-1/</span></span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">US</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0768YSZMX/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0768YSZMX/</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">UK</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0768YSZMX/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0768YSZMX/</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smashwords</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/752384"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/752384</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kobo
–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/singapore-fling-asian-adventures-book-1"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/singapore-fling-asian-adventures-book-1</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Barnes</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">and</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Noble</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/singapore-fling-lisabet-sarai/1127210397?ean=2940154581056"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/singapore-fling-lisabet-sarai/1127210397?ean=2940154581056</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Goodreads:</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36380813-singapore-fling"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36380813-singapore-fling</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Don’t
forget to comment! You could win a copy of this book. (Please include
your email so I can find you if you’re the winner!)</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-82308022112414380312024-02-09T02:00:00.008-05:002024-02-09T02:00:00.135-05:00Legal identity crisis – #Thriller #Twins #Giveaway @garylesterstuar<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2OP3w_CAecLzf2hrC2A8y0oCHV3ck33OSSuwdXFRX8ZwDkkfz2FyFllCFtp_N_rNfiV6BexPPrQcnEdTkCrFA_ffDSQ7Ow9FoMxgVarN5m6e1PW7kOh0IZvwJP-JvfAcQ5C_gf99Tr9PCHdKcDzCcTkotcaI253JZi8j6u9HoMbqv36fdfEAvB6XieJ50/s600/TourBanner_Hide%20and%20Be.gif" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Hide and Be tour banner" border="0" data-original-height="335" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2OP3w_CAecLzf2hrC2A8y0oCHV3ck33OSSuwdXFRX8ZwDkkfz2FyFllCFtp_N_rNfiV6BexPPrQcnEdTkCrFA_ffDSQ7Ow9FoMxgVarN5m6e1PW7kOh0IZvwJP-JvfAcQ5C_gf99Tr9PCHdKcDzCcTkotcaI253JZi8j6u9HoMbqv36fdfEAvB6XieJ50/s16000/TourBanner_Hide%20and%20Be.gif" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span><p></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Twin
brothers Arthur and Martin suffered horrible abuse as children,
forcing them to survive by seamlessly assuming each other’s
identities. Living each other’s lives provides protection from the
trauma of their past. But when tragedy strikes, one of the brothers
plummets into a dissociative crisis that leads him down a murderous
path.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">As
the body count rises, two cases end up in the courtroom, where
judges, lawyers, and psychiatrists try to piece together which twin
is the suspect and which is the victim. Everyone in the courtroom
strives to bring the victims to justice–but how can justice be
served when no one is sure who the defendant truly is?</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><a name="_GoBack"></a>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Like
I said, me and Marty were from Maine. Born, bred, and fed. By foster
parents mostly. Always hated the cold. We lived in drafty houses in
winter, wore cheap coats in spring and fall, but not knowing any
better, just accepted it. Lived our lives wherever the caseworkers
said. You know, go here, stay there, new doctors, and interchangeable
houses. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
general practitioner, whose first name was Doctor, talked to our
first foster mother, but not us. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don’t
worry, Mrs. Greyson,” the doctor said. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">That’s
what he always called her—Missus—she didn’t have a first name,
and he didn’t have a last. He was Doctor and she was Mrs. Us? We
were just two little jellybeans sitting in one chair. Doctor had
three chairs in his office. One for her, one for him, and the third
for us. I remember liking that—same chair, same us. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Autonomous
language is common, harmless, really. It’ll go away in time,” he
told her. Not us. He never said anything to us. We don’t remember
the exact words, but who cares? Fumbuck, he knew. You? How can you
tell? Autonomous, dummy. Marty told me.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">They
will always be hard to tell apart. Dress them differently. They will
want to be together, with their family gone and all, but treat them
like regular brothers, even if they are identical twins.”</span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpaetmrJzMwbWKUpt0Y1nLoOJW0ReyGS81SmqOnarewvoF_udPO-YWFsSfZ6Pp9kCARoBOv1zwTMS6Z_QbB8z932MQkQICcVDj0OXu7kCUAzyiic6_EPdBMwyZW8ENqJYU8EaUkFaiLwqZZ8fuXAHAh4kzT_TZXD9SQRX1xsUnpgTKoy2_bZ67eTBlQovk/s601/BookCover_Front-Hide%20and%20Be_RGB_300.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Hide and Be book cover" border="0" data-original-height="601" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpaetmrJzMwbWKUpt0Y1nLoOJW0ReyGS81SmqOnarewvoF_udPO-YWFsSfZ6Pp9kCARoBOv1zwTMS6Z_QbB8z932MQkQICcVDj0OXu7kCUAzyiic6_EPdBMwyZW8ENqJYU8EaUkFaiLwqZZ8fuXAHAh4kzT_TZXD9SQRX1xsUnpgTKoy2_bZ67eTBlQovk/s16000/BookCover_Front-Hide%20and%20Be_RGB_300.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><p></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>About
the Author</b></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
am a retiring lawyer, a working author, and a preserving blogger. I
was a full-time trial lawyer for thirty-two years in a large Phoenix
firm. I was a part-time law professor for the last twenty-nine years.
As of summer, 2023, I am writing, publishing, and blogging full
time. My first book was a textbook published by the Arizona State Bar
Association. My first novel was published by the University of New
Mexico Press. I’ve written ten novels and eight nonfiction titles
as of July 2023. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">From
the day I entered law school, I’ve been reading cases, statutory
law and writing about legal conundrums and flaws in our criminal and
civil justice systems. I’ve always read novels, nonfiction, and
historical fiction by great authors who were never corrupted by the
staid habits of trial lawyers. I write long-form, interspersed with
the occasional blog, op-ed, or essay. One of the unexpected benefits
of reading the law is learning how to write about it. Somewhere along
the trajectory from a baby lawyer to a senior one, I became
intoxicated with blending nonfiction with fiction in books, rather
than legal documents. After spending thirty years in courtrooms
trying cases, I started writing about them. That led to writing
novels while borrowing from famous historical settings and
lesser-known characters. My courtroom days were chock full of ideas,
notions, and hopes about ultimately becoming an author. I organized
and memorized critical information for judges, juries, and clients.
Now I use that experience to write vivid fiction and immersive
nonfiction. I moved away from trial practice to teaching law students
how to use creative writing techniques to tell their client’s
stories, in short form.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">F.
Scott Fitzgerald said, “All good writing is swimming under water
and holding your breath.” The same could be said of my transition
from trying cases to writing crime fiction. I’ve been holding my
breath for twenty years waiting for galley proofs and book reviews.
Anais Nin spoke for all of us when she said, “We write to taste
life twice.”</span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;">My
first novel, </span><span style="color: black;"><i>The Gallup 14</i></span><span style="color: black;">,
won a coveted starred review from Publishers Weekly. I won a Spur
Award from Western Writers of America in 2004 for my first nonfiction
book (“Miranda, The Story of America’s Right to Remain Silent”).
I won the 2010 Arizona Book of the Year Award, The Glyph Award, and a
Southwest Publishing Top Twenty award in 2010, for </span><span style="color: black;"><i>Innocent
Until Interrogated—The Story of the Buddhist Temple Massacre</i></span><span style="color: black;">.
My third nonfiction title (</span><span style="color: black;"><i>Anatomy of
a Confession—The Debra Milke Case</i></span><span style="color: black;">)
was highly acclaimed. My nonfiction title </span><span style="color: black;"><i>CALL
HIM MAC—Ernest W. McFarland—The Arizona Years</i></span><span style="color: black;">
was widely and favorably reviewed. My latest nonfiction crime book,</span><span style="color: black;"><i>
Nobody Did Anything Wrong But Me</i></span><span style="color: black;">,
was published by Twelve Tables Press, one of America’s most
distinguished publisher of law books about important legal issues. No
New York Times bestsellers, yet. </span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Facebook:
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/Gary-Stuarts-Books-223958520472/">https://www.facebook.com/Gary-Stuarts-Books-223958520472/</a></span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Twitter:
<a href="https://twitter.com/garylesterstuar">https://twitter.com/garylesterstuar</a></span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Email: <i>gary at garylstuart dot com</i></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span face="Arial, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Website:
<a href="http://www.garylstuart.com/">http://www.garylstuart.com</a></span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
</p>
<p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy Links</b></span></span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Hide-Be-Gary-L-Stuart-ebook/dp/B0CN7G732X"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/Hide-Be-Gary-L-Stuart-ebook/dp/B0CN7G732X</span></span></a></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><a href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hide-and-be-gary-l-stuart/1144216515?ean=9781736894668"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hide-and-be-gary-l-stuart/1144216515?ean=9781736894668</span></span></a></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></span></span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The
author will be awarding a print copy of <i>Hide and Be</i> and its
immediate sequel, <i>My Brother, Myself</i> to a randomly drawn
winner.</b></span></span></span></p><p class="western" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; orphans: 2; widows: 2;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b> </b></span></span></span></p>
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-79239893911433223032024-02-07T02:00:00.008-05:002024-02-07T02:00:00.134-05:00The destiny of a slave – #PNR #Jamaica #BlackHistory #MFRWHooks <p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEziwOSLgPiPME77drVS7nvfu8hzKLA_LLEgAMfibj4Atk1fBO5f_K0JjuDTTd1c6AlCgZWWbeqOAluoaG9lu1eRVR2cFBwqAN8xJAvPlRvXlYCFPPTUO0c9mG1l3HgDhZg0BeW4U20yNg2zkNb2a86GuZWZ4ogVOpp5TdidsQ_Q-7Fp9OmlCJp0KIdPoG/s600/FinDEspoir_LS_Banner_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Fin d'Espoir banner" border="0" data-original-height="277" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEziwOSLgPiPME77drVS7nvfu8hzKLA_LLEgAMfibj4Atk1fBO5f_K0JjuDTTd1c6AlCgZWWbeqOAluoaG9lu1eRVR2cFBwqAN8xJAvPlRvXlYCFPPTUO0c9mG1l3HgDhZg0BeW4U20yNg2zkNb2a86GuZWZ4ogVOpp5TdidsQ_Q-7Fp9OmlCJp0KIdPoG/s16000/FinDEspoir_LS_Banner_600.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><p><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Welcome
to this week’s MFRW Book Hooks blog hop!</span></span>
</p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">As
February is Black History Month, I thought I’d observe the occasion by sharing some of my stories that have Black
characters. I’m starting today with my paranormal erotic romance
<span style="color: #990000;"><i><b>Fin d’Espoir</b></i></span>, which is set in modern day Jamaica, but which harkens
back to an earlier time.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Enjoy!</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Bitter
and alone, Etienne de Rémorcy haunts the forest around the ruined
plantation of Fin d'Espoir. He has sworn to never again taste human
blood. Then a fierce storm and a runaway horse bring a slender,
raven-haired beauty to his lair. When she begs him to take her, he
cannot resist. Her companion likewise falls under Etienne’s spell.
Their love may be his last hope for redemption.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The
Hook</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tell
me.” She lay with her head on Etienne’s chest, listening to his
heartbeat. Strange, she thought, that he should have a beating heart,
if he was what she suspected. But what did she know of such things?
She raised her face from that ebony pillow and flicked her tongue
over the rosy nub of his nipple. “Tell me about her.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Etienne
stirred, untangling his limbs from hers. “Why waken old sorrows,
<i>petite</i>? Why not just enjoy the remains of the night?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
want to understand you.” She braced herself on her elbow, feasting
her eyes on his physical perfection. “Maybe to help you.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Impossible.
I am damned, condemned to live alone with the knowledge of my sins.
You are a poor, frail mortal. There is nothing you can do. If I wish,
I can wipe your mind clean of the memory of me. From your
perspective, I will not exist.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Please,
don’t,” Madeleine whispered. “I gave myself to you. Give me a
bit of yourself in return.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
sable giant frowned. He shifted his bulk to a sitting position. His
heavy penis lolled against his thigh. Madeleine’s mouth watered as
she imagined rousing it from its relaxed state. She shifted her
attention to his noble face. “Please, Etienne.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Very
well. I find you difficult to resist.” He sighed and was silent for
a moment, looking off into the distance. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
first saw my mistress in the slave market in Port-au-Prince. The year
was 1796. I was fifteen. It was dusk. In those glory days of colonial
power, the trade in human flesh went on around the clock.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
the midst of the filth and degradation, she was a gorgeous tropical
flower. She wore a gown of emerald silk embroidered with silver
thread. Her hair tumbled in jet ringlets over her pale shoulders. Her
eyes were dark jewels, her mouth a crimson blossom. She picked her
delicate way through the dirty straw wearing kid boots, but she held
no handkerchief to her face against the stench of unwashed bodies.
She carried a dainty leather whip dyed to match her costume.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"> “<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
stood on the block with the other merchandise, dirty, covered with
scabs, chains around my neck and my ankles. The auctioneer called for
bids on the man before me, laughing and joking in a coarse way about
the man’s substantial genitals. My mistress came right to the front
of the crowd and interrupted the proceedings.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“‘<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
will take that one,’ she stated, pointing at me. ‘What is his
price?’ She was a petite woman. Her voice was not loud, but it held
an unassailable authority. Everyone stopped to listen.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“‘<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
is to be auctioned next, Madame.’ The grizzled man looked nervous.
‘Please wait for a few moments.’ </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“‘<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">There
is no need to bother with the bids,’ my mistress insisted. ‘I
will match any offer.’ </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“‘<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Madame,
please…’ She ignored him and fixed her eyes on me. ‘I want you,
boy,’ she said. Though in my own country I was a king’s son, her
attention made me blush and hang my head. Then to my horror, I
realized that I was hugely erect.’</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“‘<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">And
you want me, too, do you not, my prince?’ She laughed. I had picked
up a bit of French on the voyage. I understood why the crowd was
jeering. She threw a heavy bag of coins onto the block. ‘Unchain
him,’ she ordered. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
auctioneer scrambled to retrieve the purse. Inside was more gold than
he had likely ever seen at one time, enough to purchase every slave
on the platform. He hastened to unfasten my leg shackles and unchain
my collar from that of the two men on either side of me. He handed
the chain to my mistress and she led me to her carriage. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">We
returned to her plantation. She had me bathed and fed. She tended to
my sores with her own hands. I thought that I was in paradise. I was
hard the whole time. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">That
night she took me to her bed. As I entered her, she drank from me for
the first time.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maddy
swallowed. “She was a—a blood-drinker?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
blood-drinker, a witch, a Voodoo priestess. The cruelest and most
savage creature you can imagine. She looked white but she was an
octamaroon, the granddaughter of a slave as black as I. How she loved
to play the grand lady, full of contempt for the society around her…”
He buried his face in his hands.</span></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggNCqj9zbydYJJDnFLEWYS4qyz2rMgtxiT7iamUYortPE8GmFvp1sogpQ97fsoV9u2_1b6MQ38xuz_r0vXoFWLqTN-9xmFnU2MP5_PzxDr_bJXf4kCESxpnqsUVhRrNwfwiXfrty7oSGTQr5lRhqIuObKB9syyZ3YgJzASnnsJgzwWYEPXLCviQj-ntHcv/s400/LogoBookHooks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Book Hooks logo" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggNCqj9zbydYJJDnFLEWYS4qyz2rMgtxiT7iamUYortPE8GmFvp1sogpQ97fsoV9u2_1b6MQ38xuz_r0vXoFWLqTN-9xmFnU2MP5_PzxDr_bJXf4kCESxpnqsUVhRrNwfwiXfrty7oSGTQr5lRhqIuObKB9syyZ3YgJzASnnsJgzwWYEPXLCviQj-ntHcv/s16000/LogoBookHooks.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy</b><b>
</b><b>Links</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kinky
Literature </span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://kinkyliterature.com/book/8227-fin-despoir-a-bisexual-vampire-romance/"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://kinkyliterature.com/book/8227-fin-despoir--bisexual-vampire-romance/</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">US</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08K55W8QD"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08K55W8QD</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amazon</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">UK</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
–</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08K55W8QD"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08K55W8QD</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smashwords</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
– </span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1045343"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1045343</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Barnes</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">and</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Noble</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fin-despoir-lisabet-sarai/1137780673?ean=2940164262006"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fin-despoir-lisabet-sarai/1137780673?ean=2940164262006</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Kobo</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
–
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/fin-d-espoir-a-bisexual-vampire-romance"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/fin-d-espoir-a-bisexual-vampire-romance</span></span></a></u></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Add</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">on</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Goodreads:</span></span><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">
</span></span><span style="color: navy;"><span lang="zxx"><u><a class="western" href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55526630-fin-d-espoir"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55526630-fin-d-espoir</span></span></a></u></span></span></p><span style="color: #990000;">
</span><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="color: #990000;">
</span><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p><span style="color: #990000;">
</span><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Be
sure to visit the other authors participating in today’s Book
Hooks!</b></span></span></span></p><span style="color: #990000;">
</span><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</p>
<hr />
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-24129938902447454122024-02-05T02:00:00.012-05:002024-02-05T02:00:00.141-05:00In the original Canadian-English... #Poetry #Lust #Chemistry @KikiFolle<p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcA10CZHwkaEBTZrzyOa616tUstfdkTvsX8wCAcPY3N8DM5JF8A_MHKW6m8atRRp7okTlrU9Hh1AMCnTqXQkWrq7FiH4-JWJ8Fku83TQA2wMcdycQ_Aw1_Kg6cmq_uvLO0W4sUDxpdfnGtIPYWZirTgQxgh1PpXRo7hKJIWRLtm6jdNWO6Ps14YHOBreLm/s734/Trouble%20_%20photo%20by%20Rebecca%20maisrienisboss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Trouble cover" border="0" data-original-height="734" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcA10CZHwkaEBTZrzyOa616tUstfdkTvsX8wCAcPY3N8DM5JF8A_MHKW6m8atRRp7okTlrU9Hh1AMCnTqXQkWrq7FiH4-JWJ8Fku83TQA2wMcdycQ_Aw1_Kg6cmq_uvLO0W4sUDxpdfnGtIPYWZirTgQxgh1PpXRo7hKJIWRLtm6jdNWO6Ps14YHOBreLm/s16000/Trouble%20_%20photo%20by%20Rebecca%20maisrienisboss.jpg" /></a></b></span></span></span></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="color: black;">Photo by </span></b></span></span></span><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Rebecca @maisrienisboss</span></b></i><br /></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>By
Amanda Earl (Guest Blogger)</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
wrote the majority of the poem <i>Trouble</i> in less than
forty-eight hours after the beginning of a long-distance relationship
with a notorious Canadian writer. It turns out we loved each other’s
writing, shared many literary interests and had some kinks in common.
You know how it feels when you have chemistry with someone. Life
suddenly becomes thrilling with every moment full of energy and
excitement. Our conversations not only turned me on, but they also
fired up my creativity. In between our texts, I expended pent-up
sexual tension through writing. To combine art and libido is one of
my favourite forms of inspiration and expression. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">A
pamphlet-length poem, Amanda Earl’s <i>Trouble</i> narrates a lust
affair that defies convention. Exploring desire through popular
culture, literature, language and mythology, Earl takes readers on an
intoxicating journey: a jolt of innovative erotica.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Buy
Link</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Palatino Linotype, serif;"><a href="https://www.hempressbooks.com/shop/p/preorder-trouble-by-amanda-earl"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.hempressbooks.com/shop/p/preorder-trouble-by-amanda-earl</span></span></a></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Additional
Links</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Featured
interview on What We’ve Been Reading, a podcast with Wendy Allen
and Charley Barnes</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Palatino Linotype, serif;"><a href="https://open.spotify.com/episode/7cRhpXeyqvkIeqWQ2lpA4j?si=0087e8ad3629445f"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://open.spotify.com/episode/7cRhpXeyqvkIeqWQ2lpA4j?si=0087e8ad3629445f</span></span></a></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Review
of Trouble by Katy Wimhurst</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Palatino Linotype, serif;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/5060491372"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/5060491372</span></span></a></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Excerpt</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">let
us read </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA"><i>Story
of the Eye</i></span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">together,
a coupla deviants like us. no fuss</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">over
coercion. a policy of trust</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">no
disgust </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">how
the dark corrupts the day</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">a
willow tree leans & leans </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">into
the water</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">supple
branch. </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA"><i>I
am flexible</i></span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">he
says, </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA"><i>are
you?</i></span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">she
is lithesome</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">submission
is subtle </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">as
she bends</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">his
hands, his whip, her argentine skin</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA"><i>prepare
your body</i></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">,
he tells her</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">his
palms glancing over </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">her
buttocks & calves</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">the
leather snaps & whistles</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">she
feels the air first then a sting against her ass</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">he
strikes her again </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">and
presses his lips</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">against
red welts </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">her
porcelain flesh livid</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">a
violet bloom</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">she
doesn’t flinch </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">her
fingers tighten </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">around
ropes holding her in</span></span></span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">her
lips bitten white fingernails </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span lang="en-CA">curling
into her palms </span></span></span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;">she
soaks the sheets</span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>About
the Author</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Amanda
Earl (she/her) has been a working writer and editor in multiple
genres for over twenty years. Her mission is whimsy, exploration, and
connection with fellow misfits. She has published poetry, visual
poetry, short fiction and a novel. For over a decade, she belonged to
the Erotica Readers and Writers Association where she connected with
many great writers, publishers and editors, resulting in the
publication of a filthy novella, and short smutty tales in over
twenty anthologies, including the Mammoth Book of Best New Erotica,
and several anthologies edited by Rachel Kramer-Bussel for Cleis
Press. </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><a name="_Hlk154418022"></a>
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Earl
is a queer writer, visual poet, editor, and publisher who lives on
Algonquin Anishinaabeg traditional territory, colonially known as
Ottawa, Ontario, Canada.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Earl
is managing editor of Bywords.ca, and editor of <i>Judith: Women
Making Visual Poetry</i> (Timglaset Editions, Sweden, 2021).</span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her
books include <i>Beast Body Epic</i> (AngelHousePress, 2023), <i>Trouble</i>
(Hem Press, 2022), <i>and Kiki</i> (Chaudiere Books, 2014; Invisible
Publishing, Canada, 2019); <i>A World of Yes</i> (Devil House, 2014)
and <i>Coming Together Presents Amanda Earl</i> (Coming Together,
2014). </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">In
2024 a digital chapbook entitled <i>Seasons, an excerpt from Welcome
to Upper Zygonia</i> will be published by Full House Literary.</span></span></p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">More
information is available at AmandaEarl.com and
<a href="https://linktr.ee/amandaearl">https://linktr.ee/amandaearl</a>.
You can also subscribe to her newsletter, <a href="https://amandaearl.substack.com">Amanda
Thru the Looking Glass</a> for sporadic updates on publishing
activities, chronic health issues and finding joy in troubled times. </span></span></p><p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span>
</p>
<p class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-41183429155651525262024-02-02T02:00:00.004-05:002024-02-02T02:00:00.262-05:00An Early Valentine’s Treat – #FreeBook #BDSM #MFRWsteam
<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7fg_U4Qv7GQGtWf_ruNLo6OFJfd5FcAZvxTRFi3-x3fjM-ALybNgF86LVw_4KVa0qPLT4En-PPK-BErmHxUpcxqHJ0f8P9jdqoSVRvOeWICe6NBHJB1VAg6A6WhXUXVdsvEv9iTtArmdQAec2NnBTz-jHm42KpXvXaRiy_QJl3pa0OX86D9fNHb_6eAZN/s540/key-to-the-heart-5142327_640.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Key to my heart" border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="540" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7fg_U4Qv7GQGtWf_ruNLo6OFJfd5FcAZvxTRFi3-x3fjM-ALybNgF86LVw_4KVa0qPLT4En-PPK-BErmHxUpcxqHJ0f8P9jdqoSVRvOeWICe6NBHJB1VAg6A6WhXUXVdsvEv9iTtArmdQAec2NnBTz-jHm42KpXvXaRiy_QJl3pa0OX86D9fNHb_6eAZN/s16000/key-to-the-heart-5142327_640.jpg" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/alexas_fotos-686414/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=5142327">Alexa</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=5142327">Pixabay</a></b></i></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
rounding out the week with another intense excerpt from my BDSM
erotic romance <span style="color: #990000;"><i><b>The Gazillionaire and the Virgin</b></i></span>. You
can still get a copy of this full-length novel for free – but
hurry, the coupon expires on Monday! You’ll find details after my
excerpt.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">By
the way, this edition includes a bonus Valentine’s story, <i>Hearts
and Handcuffs</i>, featuring Rachel and Theo.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Enjoy!</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Trust
can’t be bought—it has to be earned.</b></span></span></i></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She’s
the billionaire. He’s the virgin. Still, he knows how to make her
melt. One word from Theo, one touch, and Rachel surrenders to bliss.
It seems that love and complementary desire may harmonize their
differing values, until Rachel’s unwitting violation of Theo’s
trust tears them apart.</span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Review</b><b>
</b><b>Quotes</b></span></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">...sweet
and romantic but steamy and sexy at the same time. .... I adored it!”</span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">~
<i>Crazie</i><i> </i><i>Bettie,</i><i> </i><i>Amazon</i><i> </i><i>US</i></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">This
book is one of the top five hottest books I have read. These were two
of my most favorite lovers. I was wrung out when I finished it but
what a delight!” ~ <i>Sheila,</i><i> </i><i>Amazon</i><i> </i><i>US</i><i>
</i></span></span>
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">was</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">completely</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">drawn</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">into</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">this</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">relationship,</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">and</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">the</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">relationship</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">IS</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">the</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">story.</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">The</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">connection</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">Rachel</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">and</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">Theo</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">build</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">between</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">them</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">is</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">vividly</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">portrayed,</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">beautiful</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">and</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">well-written,</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">poignant</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">in</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">some</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">ways</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">and</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">hot</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">enough</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">to</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">melt</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">the</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">pages</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">in</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">others.</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">Which</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">is</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">exactly</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">what</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">I</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">want</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">in</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">erotic</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">novels.</span><span style="font-style: normal;">”
</span><i>~</i><i> </i><i>Lola</i><i> </i><i>White,</i><i> </i><i>Goodreads</i></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">"Do</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">I</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">recommend</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">this</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">one?</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">Oh</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">hell</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">yeah.</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">Realistic</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">D/s</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">with</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">hot</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">as</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">hell</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">kinky</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">sex?</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">Yes,</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">please!"</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span><i> </i><i>Kayla</i><i> </i><i>Lords,</i><i>
</i><i>http://kaylalords.com/2016/02/the-gazillionaire-and-the-virgin-lisabetsarai/</i></span></span></p><p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i> </i></span></span></p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgErRND5tMagCJChhoRsdiv8ZwpMt-ftxDVcY4Pt1m4ujeBCTfmr_hmG2Tg9JGQH7_VaOeGqMAciqOnk2LZJFAJ0vJn3jF7UQifLEuyMfAWWjNG7P0rJNSk3hcWfbo6rr7GWVAOgS_2NMpzgTAQjc7X6FoUO-mL6qpad3UxCJunb1xxqRJiEdIrQQ7c9Dqc/s600/Teaser2_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Gazillionaire and Virgin Teaser" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgErRND5tMagCJChhoRsdiv8ZwpMt-ftxDVcY4Pt1m4ujeBCTfmr_hmG2Tg9JGQH7_VaOeGqMAciqOnk2LZJFAJ0vJn3jF7UQifLEuyMfAWWjNG7P0rJNSk3hcWfbo6rr7GWVAOgS_2NMpzgTAQjc7X6FoUO-mL6qpad3UxCJunb1xxqRJiEdIrQQ7c9Dqc/s16000/Teaser2_600.jpg" /></a></b></span></span></span></div><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br />Excerpt
(Rated R)</b></span></span></span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">On
the long cab ride from Greenpoint to the upper West Side, we make out
in the back seat like teenagers. Theo’s mouth on mine is hungry and
demanding. His hands wander in a slow dance over my breasts and along
the curve of my hips, as though he’s caressing me for the first
time. He clutches me to his chest, pulls me into his lap, grinds his
hardness into my bottom. All the while he continues to steal my
breath with his fierce kisses.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’m
on fire. I want his touch on my bare skin, his fingers probing my
deepest recesses, but when I try to draw his hand up under my top or
between my legs, he slaps mine away. Those slaps only kindle a more
ferocious need. By the time we’ve made it back to our suite, I’m
practically dissolving, so wet I make squelching sounds when I walk.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Taking
my hand, he leads me through the sitting area, with its thirtieth
story view of glittering Manhattan, to the palatial bedroom.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don’t
move,” he orders. “I’m going to undress you.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
circles behind me to unzip my skirt. The garment slips over my hips
to the floor. Next he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my
tights and rolls the clingy material down to my ankles. I imagine him
using the elastic garment to bind me—it would be well-suited to
that task—but he seems intent only on rendering me naked.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Step
out of your shoes. That’s right.” He extricates first one foot
and then the other from my hosiery, and tosses the tangled garment
away. “Arms over your head,” he commands. In a matter of seconds,
my sweater has joined my other clothing on the floor.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
pauses for a moment, apparently to admire me in my state of
semi-nudity. My swollen nipples distort the lace of my bra. My sodden
panties bunch between my legs. Though I know it’s forbidden, I
tense my thighs, seeking some friction to relieve the terrible,
pulsing ache between them.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Be
still!” I hope he’ll slap my ass as punishment for my infraction,
but there’s only his verbal reprimand.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Can’t
you speed up a bit, Theo?” His fingers brush my back as he
unfastens the bra hooks. Electric currents zap my sex. I moan. “I’m
desperate for you.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">That’s
good. That’s the way I want you.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">My
panties are so wet that they stick to my skin. He chuckles as he
removes them. “You’re such a horny slut. I love it.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Please,
sir! I can’t bear much more.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ignoring
my plea, he stands back to survey the results of his efforts. “Clasp
your hands at the back of your neck. Now don’t move. Ah yes!
Perfect!”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">As
I stand there, nude, exposed and hungry, he seats himself on the bed,
unzips his fly, and extracts his cock. It juts up from his lap, huge
and hard, drooling pre-cum. I’d die for a taste, but I understand
he plans to make me wait. He runs his hand lazily up and down the
veined shaft, grinning like some feline after an avian snack.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You’re
so beautiful. You’re a dream come true. Sometimes I can’t believe
you’re real. Any minute, I expect to wake up in my apartment, alone
and horny. Totally lost.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">His
mood shifts. His voice hitches in a near sob. “I don’t think I
could bear that, Rachel. I love you so much…” Then he’s on his
feet, holding me close, his starched shirt grazing my nipples, his
cock leaving wet trails on my belly. “Tell me you love me,” he
murmurs close to my ear, his embrace so tight I can scarcely breathe.
“Even if it’s a lie. I need to hear it.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">It’s
not a lie, Theo.” Disobeying his instructions about my hands, I
wrap my arms around his broad back. “I do love you. But I don’t
have much more experience with this—with love—than you do.” I
tilt my chin up, silently begging for a kiss. He does not deny me.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">You
heard what my dad said. You’re the first, the first since college.
You’re special.” He nibbles my earlobe, then licks along my neck
to my collarbone. Everything he does feels exquisite. “I’m just
not sure what that means. Everything—ah, Theo!—it’s all
happening so fast.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Maybe
we just have to trust our intuitions.” His eyes shine in the muted
light of the bedroom. I think I see glints of gold, and remember him
as the wizard in MirrorWorld. Somehow he knows me, after only a few
weeks, more thoroughly than anyone ever has. “And we have to be
honest with one another. Tell each other what we need. What we want.”
Finally, his fingers seek out my dripping sex. I shudder with
dangerous pleasure as he slides inside. “Tell me what you want,
Rachel.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">The
answer’s easy. “I want you to take me, sir. To use me. To fuck me
until there’s nothing in the universe but you, and me.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Theo
seizes me, lifts me off the floor and tosses me onto the bed. I lie
there, breathless, my heart thudding against my ribs as he tears off
his clothing. In seconds, he’s looming over me, pinning my wrists
above my head, while his cock prods at my entrance. He wears that
manic, power-drenched smile that totally destroys me.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Funny.
That’s what I want too.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Get
a free copy of this book from Smashwords!</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Go
to the book page: </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Click
on Buy, then enter this coupon code: </span></span><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">KF43P</span></span></b></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
price will drop from $4.99 to zero. Conclude the sale, then go
download the book in your choice of ebook formats: mobi, epub, pdf,
etc. The coupon expires on Monday, February 5</span></span></span></b><b><sup><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">th</span></span></span></sup></b><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">.</span></span></span></b></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Be sure to visit the other authors participating in today's Steam Hop!</span></span></b></span></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> <br /></span></span></span></b></p>
<hr />
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Lisabet Saraihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05162514190572269660noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2776562806569236997.post-11055249731235573922024-01-31T02:00:00.009-05:002024-01-31T02:00:00.280-05:00It’s my birthday, and I have gifts for you – #Giveaway #FreeBook #MFRWHooks<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXlNE_7TmayB4QmJ5TDvRqfVy7R0_yDi8XOH-QhzVDiah4hAogxZVrqPmYW1LNP-Dbev4_nCeIpLBRFSn6maGq_UFCHealzXLzxZrERB-UBksSPYxR0pNyei4STOZOqwJDFwhMTzbease-Rfhoj4FiODn0w3YgFrs0eKXmlwzXu-QgG_iG8-zldU-cFZ_/s600/GazillionaireBanner_600.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Gazillionaire and Virgin banner" border="0" data-original-height="223" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaXlNE_7TmayB4QmJ5TDvRqfVy7R0_yDi8XOH-QhzVDiah4hAogxZVrqPmYW1LNP-Dbev4_nCeIpLBRFSn6maGq_UFCHealzXLzxZrERB-UBksSPYxR0pNyei4STOZOqwJDFwhMTzbease-Rfhoj4FiODn0w3YgFrs0eKXmlwzXu-QgG_iG8-zldU-cFZ_/s16000/GazillionaireBanner_600.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br />Happy
Wednesday! And happy birthday to me! No, I won’t tell you how old I
am. You’d just be shocked. In any case, I’m not too old to
celebrate. And since this is also the day for our MFRW Book Hooks
blog hop, I thought I’d celebrate by giving you some birthday
gifts.</span></span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">For
my hook, I’ve got a steamy kiss from my BDSM erotic romance <i><b>The
<span style="color: #990000;">Gazillionaire and the Virgin</span></b></i>. You can get a copy of this
best-selling, full-length novel for <b>free</b>, between today and
next Monday. See the details after my hook.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Plus,
I am giving away a <span style="color: #990000;"><b>$10 bookstore gift certificate</b></span> to one
randomly selected commenter. To be eligible, you must <i>include your
email in the comment</i>, so that I can find you if you win. (I
promise I won’t use the email except to locate you.)</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Want
another chance at the gift certificate? Go leave a comment on my post
at Sweet n’ Sexy Divas, too. Same rules.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<div style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/2024/01/birthday-goodies-for-everyone-giveaway.html"><span><span class="w4txWc oJeWuf" id="c201" role="region"><span class="MUhG4e OGjyyf" data-blogurl="https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/">https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/2024/01/birthday-goodies-for-everyone-giveaway.html</span></span></span></a></span></div>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Blurb</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><i><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Trust
can’t be bought—it has to be earned.</b></span></span></i></p>
<p align="left" style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">She’s
the billionaire. He’s the virgin. Still, he knows how to make her
melt. One word from Theo, one touch, and Rachel surrenders to bliss.
It seems that love and complementary desire may harmonize their
differing values, until Rachel’s unwitting violation of Theo’s
trust tears them apart.</span></span></p><p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6IXPdT94twRyEhk_VY6AdIOmjwBItKSly3jjI8RNWu8pKRu3gTAct9ml9JpborbbzAaEHu79Ux3Pgp5pVaYXEn_7jNVQDHThRWnXSlhYW5vaRAjslUkBpkTJvSm_NQruxncAv-ra_N6gicZ-kr1LEv47R0NTDYMiadbf582d9t6itEju4tAKu0o8U9-t/s400/LogoBookHooks.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Book Hooks logo" border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6IXPdT94twRyEhk_VY6AdIOmjwBItKSly3jjI8RNWu8pKRu3gTAct9ml9JpborbbzAaEHu79Ux3Pgp5pVaYXEn_7jNVQDHThRWnXSlhYW5vaRAjslUkBpkTJvSm_NQruxncAv-ra_N6gicZ-kr1LEv47R0NTDYMiadbf582d9t6itEju4tAKu0o8U9-t/s16000/LogoBookHooks.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><p></p>
<p align="left" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>The
Hook</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Max
opens the rear door of the limo. Theo flinches away.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hi,
Theo!” I lean out to wave. “Nice to see you!”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
scowls at me. “You’re twelve minutes late. I thought you’d
changed your mind.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sorry!
It’s a rather a long way from Santa Cruz, a bit hard to predict the
travel time. I probably should have called. Traffic on 101 was even
worse than usual…” I’m babbling, his presence making me giddy.
“Anyway, why would I change my mind?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
doesn’t answer, just stands there shuffling from one foot to the
other as Max waits patiently.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Get
in, Theo. Please. We’re headed up to the city. We’ve got a
reservation. We need to get started.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He
shoots Max a dubious look. “I’m not sure I want to go. I thought…
I thought it would just be the two of us.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Don’t
mind Max. He’s just the driver. I thought it would better to be
chauffeured, so that we could concentrate on talking.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Talking?
Is that what you have in mind?” I still hear irritation in his
voice, but he does climb into the limo to settle down next to me.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Ah,
well—among other things.” For some reason I’m blushing. I
gesture to Max in the front seat. A smoked glass privacy pane slides
up to block his view of us. “Is that better? Now you can forget
he’s even there.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hmm.”
Fumbling in his jacket pocket, he fishes out a scrap of paper, which
he thrusts in my direction. “Here. The CIH account number you
wanted.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Excellent!
I’ll set up the transfer first thing Monday…” Our fingers touch
as I take the note. That minimalist brush of skin on skin sends heat
roaring through me. I suck in my breath. My nipples pebble under my
jacket. Thank God he can’t see them. I think I’d dissolve in
embarrassment.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Theo
spears me with a curious gaze. “Is something wrong, Rachel?”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">No,
no. I’m fine.” I tuck the paper into my purse, then force myself
to meet his eyes. “I’m very glad to see you, Theo.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">His
stiff posture softens a bit. “Me too.” He sweeps his gaze over my
form. “You look – well – just beautiful.” Before I know
what’s happening, he reaches out to engulf my small hand in his
much larger one. He gives me a squeeze. “I’ve missed you,” he
says, almost inaudible.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>You
missed me? It’s been less than forty eight hours</i>, I start to
say, trying to laugh off his intensity. But his warmth accelerates my
pulse and dampens my pussy. His scent of soap and menthol shaving
cream swamps me with memories of our transcendent first night
together. I ache to have him in my arms again—to have him in my
cunt. I can’t deny I’ve missed him too.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">He’s
watching me, reading my face, his dark eyes flickering with emotion.
I am suddenly as frightened as I am aroused. Theo Moore isn’t going
to do casual. He’s an all-or-nothing sort of guy. I could seriously
hurt him.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">I
want him, oh yes, more than I’ve wanted anyone in a long time. Am I
ready to take responsibility, though, for the consequences?</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">So
I don’t answer, don’t tell him how he has monopolized my thoughts
for the past two days. Instead I change the subject.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Have
you thought about how you’ll use the donations?” Even to my own
ears, my enthusiasm rings false.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">“<span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">No–no–never
mind that. I’ll consider that later.” He tugs on my hand, pulling
me closer. My body slides across the leather upholstery, until my
thigh presses against his. “I want to talk about us, Rachel.”</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>There
is no ‘us’,</i> I want to tell him. <i>It’s too risky. Last
night was great, but it won’t happen again. </i>I choke down the
words. I can’t think of any reply that won’t damage his fragile
self-image.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">There’s
no chance for me to speak anyway. Theo wraps me in his bear-like
arms, leans in, and claims my mouth. His kiss scatters my resolution
like sun burning through fog.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">His
lips lock to mine, firm and muscular, taking control. I don’t fight
him – how can I, when both of us know this is what I want? When he
runs his tongue along the seam, I open automatically, following my
instincts as he, I suspect, is following his. He tastes of
peppermint. He smells like sun-warmed earth. He drinks me in as
though he’d like to swallow me whole.</span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b></b></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif-oRTNXL06FjP2byz5NpjtXcfWZuz2vkfHKqJcb2OsPmNWrnqyKyW_RVfnxi9een2Aysahc99NJjd0tzUy-2LeVbd_WrLxohVuI5iY1Tp4g1X59O_IbW3XEcTgqfw8jAZQ6SJ3yQta20hyYwprtteZyI5S1KZF01OA_ANDW5ygEnvjJb92KANEDfHRIKj/s600/GazillionaireCover_400.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Gazillionaire and the Virgin book cover" border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif-oRTNXL06FjP2byz5NpjtXcfWZuz2vkfHKqJcb2OsPmNWrnqyKyW_RVfnxi9een2Aysahc99NJjd0tzUy-2LeVbd_WrLxohVuI5iY1Tp4g1X59O_IbW3XEcTgqfw8jAZQ6SJ3yQta20hyYwprtteZyI5S1KZF01OA_ANDW5ygEnvjJb92KANEDfHRIKj/s16000/GazillionaireCover_400.jpg" /></a></b></span></span></div><p></p><p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Get
a free copy of this book from Smashwords!</b></span></span></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;">Go
to the book page: </span></span>
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
price will drop from $4.99 to zero. Conclude the sale, then go
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<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #990000;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Enter
to win a $10 Amazon or BN gift certificate!</b></span></span></b></span></p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span face="DejaVu Sans, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Just
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<p style="line-height: 125%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
</p>
<hr />
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