Charity Sunday: For the after-thoughts - #AmnestyInternational #COVID-19 #CharitySunday

 

Welcome to Charity Sunday for April 2020.

I faced a dilemma, deciding what cause to support this month. The fact is, everyone is hurting – losing their jobs, their homes, their savings and their confidence in the future. Cut off from family members, friends and neighbors, and spiritual support, people are experiencing a level of uncertainty that few of us in developed countries have previously known.

Who needs help the most? Medical workers on the front lines, stretched to the limit, forced to make do with inadequate supplies? The elderly, the disabled and the chronically ill, for whom Covid-19 is likely a death sentence? Impoverished communities and people of color, living with environmental pollution that raises their risk a hundred-fold? Parents stuck at home, trying to make ends meet while keeping their children occupied and educated? The kids themselves, bored, depressed, possibly hungry, definitely scared?

Finally, I decided to focus on people nobody seems to care much about: immigrants, refugees and asylum seekers, especially those crammed into detention centers with little access to sanitation, health care, or hope. Amnesty International has an urgent action campaign to advocate for these individuals, whose situation makes them much more vulnerable than most groups. A single Covid-19 case in a crowded prison or refugee camp could wipe out thousands of people in a matter of days.

Nobody should be treated as an after-thought. And the fight for human rights never stops.

https://www.amnesty.org/en/

So this Charity Sunday, I will donate $2 to Amnesty International for each comment I receive. I usually keep my Charity Sunday offer open for a full month, but due to the urgency, this one will close on Thursday April 30^th. So please comment – and tell your friend to come do the same!

Meanwhile – as usual, I have an excerpt for you. This is a bit from “Wired”, one of the light-hearted D/s stories in my collection Hearts &Handcuffs: Romantic Kink.

I’ll give away a copy of the book to one person who leaves a comment.

The building was mostly dark when I drove into the parking lot. A motion sensor switched on an overhead light as I approached the door. I punched in my security code. A buzz, a click, and I was in the lobby. The guard's desk was unoccupied. My footsteps echoed through the dim, empty corridors.

I slipped through the fire doors that led to my group's space. The glassed-in server room was lit, plus the ceiling fluorescents above Krishna's office. The floor was carpeted in this area. I moved without a sound.

Krishna sat with back to me, focused on his screen. From where I stood, outside his cubicle, I couldn't see what he was gazing at so intently. But I could guess.

“Krishna,” I murmured.

He swiveled around, simultaneously flicking the off switch on his monitor. I could tell that the move was well-practiced.

“Liz! What are you doing here?” As I entered the cubicle, he backed the chair towards the desk, apparently trying to put more distance between us.

“I came to visit you. I thought you might be lonely.” I took another step forward. He had nowhere to go. An embarrassed grin stretched his lush lips.

His shirt was open to the middle button. A gold chain nestled in the black curls on his breast. He was breathing hard; the rise and fall of his chest made the necklace glitter. I dropped my gaze to his lap. As I expected, I found a significant bulge.

“Um―no―I'm fine―just making sure the backups are all right. I was going to leave in a few minutes...”

I brushed a fingertip across the lump in his groin. He shivered. His nervous smile evaporated.

“Don't go yet,” I crooned. “I just got here.”

I had changed out of my work clothes. I now wore a tight purple jersey with a V neck that flattered my modest breasts and a short denim skirt. I trailed a finger down my throat to my cleavage. Krishna's eyes followed in fascination. I retraced my path to my throat, the feathery touch making my nipples pebble, and removed the scarf I'd draped around my neck.

He gripped the curved arms of his desk chair, as though he were afraid he was going to faint. I slipped the scarf under the chair arm and wrapped it twice around his wrist, then tied a firm knot. He didn't move. The lavender silk was lovely against his brown skin.

“Is that too tight?” My voice was barely louder than a whisper. Krishna shook his head. His eyes were black pools of lust. I pulled a second scarf from my back pocket, this one turquoise, and secured his other arm. He trembled when I touched him.

I seated myself on his lap. His erection poked deliciously at my bottom, even through the heavy denim of my skirt. He must be huge, I thought. I'd know before long.

His beautiful face hovered inches from mine. He dropped his eyes, focusing on his bound wrist.

 

“No,” I protested, lifting his chin so that he could not look away. “Look at me, for once. I've been trying to get your attention for months. You're not getting away from me this time.”

Krishna's lips parted, as though he was about to speak. I stopped him with a fierce kiss. At first he resisted, struggling against the scarves, his lips pressed tightly together to keep me out. I braced my palms against his chest and bore down on him, prying those lips apart with my tongue.

All at once he let go. His mouth was as lush and hot as it looked, tasting of coffee and anise. I fed on him, nibbling and sucking, pouring out my long-denied lust. He opened to me, not exactly passive, but giving me control.

My bare thighs grew damp with the heat of that kiss. My nipples peaked into aching knots. His smell surrounded me, soap and sweat and the coconut oil he used on his hair. His rod prodded the crack between my legs. I burrowed deeper into his mouth, kissing him harder.

Krishna arched up, grinding himself against my ass. I broke the kiss and hopped off his lap. “Oh no you don't! Your orgasm belongs to me.”

“Please, Liz!” Krishna looked miserable and needy.

“Oh, now you're begging!” I strutted back and forth in front of him on my high-heeled boots, giving him an eyeful of my slutty outfit. “Maybe I should just leave you here, tied up and frustrated. After all, you've frustrated me for an awfully long time.”

“No, please...”

“What will Steve and Rob think when they come in tomorrow and find you tied to your chair? And when they turn on your monitor?”

I reached over his shoulder to click the switch. As I'd expected, the screen was full of kinky images, men hogtied and suspended, secured in a hundred uncomfortable positions, all with huge, hungry erections.

Krishna looked terrified. “Don't tell anyone―please don't tell! They'll deport me if they find out...”

“Your secret is safe with me.” I tangled my fingers in his opulent hair. “Provided that you cooperate, of course.”

Don’t forget to leave a comment! Every one means $2 to help immigrants and asylum seekers. And one person who comments will get a free book!

Plus - I hope you'll visit the other authors participating in today's Charity Sunday blog hop. Find out about the causes they're supporting - and leave your comment to help! 

Charity Sunday: Helping you to imagine... #NewRelease #CharitySunday #AmnestyInternational

Greetings!

This is the weekend I would normally do a Charity Sunday post, where I post about some worthwhile cause, then invite you to comment. Then I donate to the charity according to the number of comments I receive.

Today, I’m doing something a bit different.

I don’t know if you saw my post “Imagine” a few days ago, on World Refugee Day. In that post (which I’d love you to go over and read), I invite you to imagine what it would be like to be one of the 70 million individuals in the world today who have been forced to leave their homes because of conflict, violence and disasters natural and man-made. Despite their suffering, refugees are in many places treated as unwanted, even inhuman. Can you imagine what it would be like, to be homeless, destitute and despised?

Today, I thought I’d help you imagine, by sharing my own attempts to make real the plight of one group of refugees. According to UNHCR, there are currently more than 95,000 refugees in Thailand, living in nine camps. Most are from minority groups along the border with Myanmar, who have been displaced by decades of ethnic conflict.

My new release Refuge brings one of these camps to life, seen through the eyes of a young private in the Thai military. Here’s the blurb:

I never wanted to be a soldier, especially a guard at the remote, dusty Mae La refugee camp, a thousand kilometers from my home. But these days there were no jobs in our village. My mother depended on the money I sent her each month. Still, she cried whenever I phoned her.

Until I met the lovely hill tribe girl Preean, though—until she asked for help I knew I shouldn’t give her—I never really understood what I was doing to my fellow human beings. How could she go on, one day after another in that desolate place, without any hope for change? Mae La was limbo—once you arrived here you were stuck. There was nowhere else you could go.

To love her was dangerous, a risk to my own life and freedom. But when she offered her body and her heart, how could I refuse? 

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Refuge is a multicultural erotic romance with a happy ending, but it portrays, as vividly as I know how, the miserable life of these refugees.

I want you to read this story. You can download it free from Smashwords by going here:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/945432

and then using this coupon:

VZ77M

So here’s the deal this Charity Sunday. Instead of making donations based on how many comments I get, I’ll donate two dollars to Amnesty International (one of the most important organizations working for refugee rights and welfare, around the world) for every download of the book (free or paid).

Furthermore, I plan to donate all proceeds from sales on either Smashwords or Amazon (which I hope will have the book up within the next 24 hours) to Amnesty.

I’ll donate two dollars for every review on Amazon as well.

The coupon and donation offer expires on July 4^th. The altruistic allocation of proceeds will go on indefinitely.

Feel free to share the coupon, and the book, with your friends and family. The more people who imagine the life of a refugee, the more likely it is that the world will work to reduce their suffering and give them a home.

Finally, here’s a bit from the book, so you’ll have some idea what you’re getting:

~ ~ ~ ~ 

“Excuse me, do you have a pencil?”

I jumped. I had been daydreaming about home, eating somtum and gai yang with Mum and my brother Daeng under the tamarind tree in the backyard. The light tap on my shoulder dragged me back to the smelly, dusty camp where I was supposed to be on guard.

“What?”

“A pencil? Or a pen?” The young woman gestured back towards a knot of kids gathered in the shade of the water tower. She held up a sheet of corrugated cardboard scavenged from some trash heap. “I’m teaching them their alphabet. I’ve got this but nothing to write with.”

She wore a faded teeshirt, baggy shorts and flip flops. Her hair hung down her back in a messy ponytail tied with an old shoelace. Still I could see that she was pretty, slightly built, with sharper features and paler skin then the girls back home. Her smile appeared genuine, though her eyes appraised me nervously. I guessed that it took some courage for her to approach me, a uniformed soldier with a loaded rifle—never mind that I was only a year or two older than she was, and wanting nothing more than to go back to my family in Yasathon.

I leaned my gun against my thigh. “I’ve got a pencil back at the barracks, but I can’t leave my post until my shift is over. Maybe you could postpone your lessons until after three? I’ll bring it to you then.”

Her face lit up. She grabbed and squeezed my hands. Hers were tiny, but strong. “Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you.”

I blushed at her enthusiasm. “Never mind. Now you’d better go.” I’d noticed Sergeant Chokchai headed my way. He didn’t approve of what he called “fraternization” between us and the camp’s inhabitants.

“Everything secure, Private Nu?” He loomed over me. I swallowed hard. He came from Bangkok. He had made it clear in his view, I was just a stupid hick from the Northeast.

“Yes, sir. Everything is normal, sir.”

“What were you doing, talking to that filthy Burmese cunt?”

I winced at his foulness. “Nothing. She wanted to know the time, that’s all.”

“Why should she care? She’s not going anywhere!” Chokchai gave a nasty chuckle “You should know better, though. Don’t talk to them. Don’t get involved in their affairs. Oh, they’ll act all polite and respectful, but they’re snakes. They’ll stab you as soon as your back’s turned. You remember what happened to Sakon, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Sakon had been another sergeant. They had found him behind the mess hall with his throat slit. Everyone assumed that he was murdered by one of the refugees, even though he’d been a brutal man who had many enemies.

“Just remember, they’re animals. Ignorant, superstitious animals.” He looked over his shoulder in the direction that the girl had disappeared, shaking his head in obvious disgust, before returning his unwelcome attention to me.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Thank you for your time, and your compassion.

Quick update: the book is now available on Amazon (but not free):

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07TDYD7DB
 

Charity Sunday: Amnesty International (#HumanRights #CharitySunday #refugees)

It’s Sunday again, the second Sunday in September, which means that here at Beyond Romance, it is Charity Sunday.

Let me explain how this works, in case you are new to my blog. One Sunday a month, I feature a particular charity that is important to me personally. I’ll tell you a bit about what they do and give you links so you can find out more. Then I’ll share an excerpt from one of my stories (just to keep things entertaining) and ask for your opinion in a comment.

For every comment I receive, I will donate $1 to the month’s charity.

Thanks to everyone who commented last month. I rounded up the number of comments and donated $20 to Oxfam. At that time, an anonymous donor was matching all contributions, so thanks to you, mine was doubled to $40. That might not seem like much, but if every one of us gave that much, we could eradicate hunger.

In any case, my selected charity this month is Amnesty International, a worldwide organization that has been working for human rights for more than fifty years. You may be familiar with Amnesty’s grass-roots letter writing campaigns to free prisoners of conscience—individuals who are imprisoned solely because of their political or religious beliefs. Unfortunately, there are thousands of such people around the world. The organization also works to eradicate torture and capital punishment, and advocates for the rights of women and minorities.

Given the natural disasters currently afflicting the globe (hurricanes in the Atlantic, earthquakes in Mexico, devastating floods in India and Nepal, and so on) you may wonder why I am not focusing on some relief charity like the Red Cross. To be honest, I believe that worldwide, crises in human rights are more serious, and ultimately affect everyone, not just people in vulnerable locations. In many countries (and not just in the so-called “third world”), we can see a disturbing trend towards totalitarianism, a lack of accountability and a total disregard for fundamental human rights. Human rights abuse in one country, if allowed to persist, encourages other governments or groups to follow suit. This phenomenon is insidious and dangerous, but much less flashy and obvious than smashed houses or submerged hospitals. Amnesty International shines the light of conscience on the inhumane practices that are all too common these days.

Anyway, if you believe that it is important to treat human beings—all human beings— with compassion, respect and dignity, I hope you’ll leave a comment below. As it happens, Amnesty also has a donor matching contributions during the month of September, so every comment means $2 for human rights.

For this month’s excerpt, I’ve gone back to my short story “Refuge”, which is clearly relevant to my charity. This story is available in the altruistic anthology Coming Together: At Last (V1), which as it happens also supports Amnesty International. So if you buy a copy, you’re contributing twice!

http://the-erotic-cocktail.dreamhosters.com/books/atlast.htm

The story is a romance between a woman from an ethnic minority in Myanmar, who is living in a refugee camp on the Thai border, and a Thai soldier assigned to the camp.

Here’s a (non-erotic) snippet. Please do leave me a comment and do a bit for human rights.

She raised her eyes. I was startled to see that they were dark blue, like dusk behind the mountains. Also they were glistening with tears. “I need to ask your help again. Something much more serious.”

On impulse, I grasped her hands, gently releasing her tense grip. Her nails were bitten down to the quick. The creases in her palms were embedded with grime. Nevertheless, her skin was deliciously soft. Sympathetic tears pricked at my eyes. “What is it? How can I help you?”

“It’s Su. One of the children. She’s very sick. Diarrhea and a high fever.”

“Did you bring her to the infirmary?”

“They said it was probably just some bad fish. That they couldn’t do anything. I think she needs to go to the hospital. She’s burning up.”

“The hospital? In Mae Sot? That’s more than two hours away!”

“I went to ask the commander for permission to take her. He wouldn’t even let me into his office.” She tried to kneel before me. I stopped her, terribly embarrassed, not to mention worried that someone would see her. “Please, Khun Nu. She’s much worse today than she was last night. She doesn’t even know who I am.”

What can I do? I started to answer. I can’t do anything. I’m practically a prisoner here myself. But the desperation and hope I saw mingled in her face stopped my voice.

“We would need a jeep...” I remembered when the commander sent Kai and me to town, a month ago, to pick up mail and supplies. Maybe I could convince him that we needed to make another run. “Let me see what I can do and I’ll let you know. Where can I find you?”

“If you can get a jeep, tie this around one of the supports on the water tower.” She held out the shoelace that had been securing her ponytail. It has once been red. Her jet locks flowed over her shoulders in a shimmering cascade. A lump gathered in my chest as I gazed at her, so small and vulnerable, so brave. “I’ll meet you at the turn off for Baan Huay Bua, half a kilometer along the road. Around noon.”

“But how...?”

She smiled. “There are exits. Gaps in the barbed wire. Places where it’s rusted away. We all know them.”

“Then why don’t you leave?” I imagined her, free, dressed in bright, clean clothing, laughing with friends. Teaching in an actual school.

“Where would I go? My village across the border? It’s gone, burned to the ground by the generals’ thugs. My parents were murdered. My sisters were raped. I have no idea where they are now. Without an identity card, I couldn’t get a decent job. Oh, maybe I could make it to Bangkok or Phuket and work in a bar. Flirt in exchange for drinks. Have sex with tourists. Would that really be any less of a prison than here?”

~~~~

 Remember: every comment is $2 for human rights!

Amnesty International Turns Fifty

May 28, 2011 marks the 50th anniversary of the founding of Amnesty International. The world renowned organization began with one person and an idea -- to protect the basic dignity and human rights of those imprisoned for their beliefs.

Amnesty is not a political organization. It speaks on behalf of prisoners of conscience in every society. Through its meticulously researched reports on human rights and its grass roots campaigns on behalf of individuals around the world, Amnesty has made a difference in the lives of thousands of people, of dozens of nationalities. In addition to the many prisoners of conscience who have been freed because of Amnesty's work, the organization has profoundly affected the world's awareness of human rights issues. Its work for freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom from torture, and abolition of the death penalty throws a spotlight on injustice wherever it occurs.

I've been a supporter of Amnesty since I became an adult and learned of its existence. I deeply admire the courage of an organization that is ready to stand up to any country - no matter how rich and powerful - and challenge it to make a meaningful commitment to basic human rights for all.

To celebrate AI's fiftieth anniversary, I will make a $1 donation to the organization for every person who comments on this blog post.

And if you want to do more, get yourself a copy of the charitable anthology Coming Together: At Last. All proceeds from this two volume set of interracial erotic fiction benefit AI. The book includes my tale Refuge, set in an Asian refugee camp. You can read an excerpt from Refuge here

News Flash! All Romance Ebooks, the primary publisher of the Coming Together altruistic erotica books, is having a super Memorial Day Sale - 50% rebate on all purchases made by credit card or PayPal! And they're still paying the authors and publishers their normal cut! So if you want to buy At Last or any other titles, go to ARE right away!

To learn more about Amnesty's efforts for human rights, and what you can do to help, visit http://www.amnestyusa.org/. And don't forget to leave a comment!

Thank you!