Charity Sunday: Doctors Without Borders #CharitySunday #humanitarian #MSF

Welcome to another Charity Sunday blog hop. I’m glad you could join me and my fellow bloggers to enjoy a bit of reading and make a small contribution to the world. Last month, I received fifteen comments and donated $20 to Room to Read, an organization dedicated to worldwide literacy, especially for young women. I’d love to see this month’s Charity Sunday generate an even better response.

Every time I do a Charity Sunday post, I’m faced with the choice of a cause to support. There’s no shortage of worthy charities, of course. However, I find that there’s all too often a political dimension to charities. I definitely have quite strong political views. On the other hand, I don’t think it’s appropriate, in most cases, to impose my views on others. In any case, trying to change someone else’s political position is rarely effective. I also don’t want to alienate readers who don’t agree with me.

Today, I’ve chosen to support one of my favorite organizations: Doctors Without Borders/Médécins Sans Frontières. MSF provides humanitarian and medical assistance to victims of epidemics, disasters and conflicts, and increasingly, to migrants and asylum seekers. The doctors and nurses who volunteer for MSF put their own lives in danger to care for their fellow human beings. MSF is renowned for its policy of treating those in need, whoever they are, regardless of their nationality or position in a conflict.

Immigration and asylum have become political hot topics in the past few years. You will undoubtedly have your own opinions on the question of whether immigration is a threat to society and how migrants should be treated. MSF rises above these political considerations. The organization will try to help people who need help—regardless of the legal issues. We are humans first and foremost. All of us, regardless of nationality, race, color or religion.

So please leave a comment – even one that disagrees with me. Every one means a dollar for MSF.

For my excerpt, I’ve got a bit from my short story “Vampires, Limited”. This story appeared in the charitable anthology Coming Together: In Vein, which I also edited. All sales of this anthology benefit – yes, you guessed it – MSF.

When you’ve finished with my excerpt, and hopefully left a comment, please visit the other authors participating in this month’s Charity Sunday event. You’ll find their links at the end of this post.

Thank you!

Casually he trailed a finger up the side of her neck and circled her earlobe. A shiver raced through her, winding tight around her nipples, spiraling down to her sex. He nipped at her ear, playful, but hard enough to make her gasp. “As for me, you know who I am, don’t you? Or at least, what I am.”

Lara knew what he was saying. She just couldn’t accept it.

“Here.” Still behind her, he grabbed her hand and placed her fingers on his throat. His skin was cooler than the air, cool and smooth as marble. “Do you feel any pulse?”

“No—but—it’s just not possible. It’s just a myth. A fashion, a fad. Everyone these days pretends...”

He brought her wrist to his lips, flicking his tongue over the spot where the veins were closest to the surface. His mouth was hot, unlike the rest of him. A violent shudder of desire rocked her body. “Close your eyes,” he murmured.

I should call off this farce now, Lara thought, but she obeyed anyway. Something pricked at her flesh where he held it against his mouth, the tiniest sting, hardly deserving the name pain. Then there was heat, and a pulling, not at her wrist but somehow at her heart, which leaped up in response and began to pump at twice its normal rate.

Red flooded the space behind her eyelids, scarlet, crimson, three-dimensional eddies of color like billowing clouds. A brief icicle of fear stabbed at her, then melted as warm, sweet pleasure flowed through her limbs. Her nipples, her pussy, everywhere there was this hot, wet current, aching and yet somehow not urgent.

“Relax,” he whispered. “Let go.” She heard his voice, coming from a long way off. She saw his eyes, burning through the red haze. They had darkened from blue to empty black. She felt herself tumbling into their depths. Some last fragment of self-consciousness cried out for her to resist, but she ignored it. He was too strong, his will irresistible, the gifts he offered too precious to refuse. She let herself drift. He cradled then released her. She felt herself beginning to drown in the scarlet river of his blood lust.

The shock of separation drove black spikes of pain into her temples. She opened her eyes, gasping for breath. Motes of red swam in her vision. She twisted around to look at him, in wonder and terror.

“Sorry,” he shrugged. “I didn’t know how else to convince you.”

“You’re—you’re the real thing, aren’t you?” Lara thought her chest would burst. “Nosferatu. Undead.” She rubbed at her throbbing head. “I never believed...”

“Believe,” he said, his voice low and solemn. Then all at once was back in his chair, leaving her heart slamming against her ribs. He smiled at her, that wide open, American country-boy smile. Lara worked to catch her breath, to calm herself to some semblance of normalcy.

Please leave a comment. And please visit the other bloggers participating in today’s event.

Bloody Good Erotica

Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate! Even if you don’t, I hope you’ll take a minute to remember and acknowledge all your blessings, and to hug your loved ones.

My Thanks-Giving Back post today features Coming Together In Vein, a multi-author collection of vampire erotica that I edited. The book benefits one of my favorite causes, Médecins Sans Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders). MSF works to provide medical services to the world’s most desperate, often in areas torn apart by war or devastated by natural disasters. They provide care for all, regardless of race, religion or political affiliation—and they’ve suffered for that humanitarian position.

When I compare my own life with those of the people MSF serves, I’m humbled and grateful. This anthology, which includes fabulous stories by M. Christian, Cheyenne Blue, Giselle Renarde, Xan West, Nobilis Reed, and many more of my favorite authors, is worth buying for its own sake. In addition, every cent of the purchase price goes to support MSF’s courageous and compassionate work.

I’ve included a sample from my story in the book, “Vampires, Limited”. Leave me a comment with your email, and I’ll choose one person to receive a copy of my paranormal collection Fourth World, which includes two vampire tales.

“Try the next picture.” The man’s body was tense, as though he was working hard to hold something back. Slowly, tearing herself away from the soulful gaze in the photo, she turned it over.

The photograph that followed ripped her apart. Although vampiric in theme, it was nothing like the camp pictures that her publication featured. The same red-haired woman lay nude on a satin-draped bier, graceful and pale. Her wrists crossed on her abdomen, just below the modest swell of her perfect breasts. Her face was turned toward the camera, her eyes closed, her lips parted. A trail of crimson fluid trickled from her neck, across the white satin and onto the stone floor.

Behind the bier stood the vampire. His right hand held a white candle that fitfully illuminated the arches of the vault. His left cupped his victim’s breast, thumb resting lightly on her prominent nipple.

His blond hair was pushed back from his brow, damp with sweat. His skin was flushed with the blood that he had swallowed, the blood that still smeared his lips. Looking into those eyes, eyes dark as hell, Lara felt it all: his grief, his guilt and his awful, all-consuming lust.

Who was she, the ethereal, terribly convincing victim? And who, who was he?

She didn’t see him move. Yet all at once he was behind her, his hands on her shoulders, murmuring in her ear. “Barbara was her name. She was my girlfriend, back in college. A terrible mistake.”

He was so close, she should have felt the heat of his body, but it was as if a mannequin was pressed against her, instead of a living person. She could smell him, though, a sharp grassy scent that made her think of the country and wide open spaces.

Casually he trailed a finger up the side of her neck and circled her earlobe. A shiver raced through her, winding tight around her nipples, spiraling down to her sex. He nipped at her ear, playful, but hard enough to make her gasp. “As for me, you know who I am, don’t you? Or at least, what I am.”

Lara knew what he was saying. She just couldn’t accept it.

“Here.” Still behind her, he grabbed her hand and placed her fingers on his throat. His skin was cooler than the air, cool and smooth as marble. “Do you feel any pulse?”

“No—but—it’s just not possible. It’s just a myth. A fashion, a fad. Everyone these days pretends...”

He brought her wrist to his lips, flicking his tongue over the spot where the veins were closest to the surface. His mouth was hot, unlike the rest of him. A violent shudder of desire rocked her body. “Close your eyes,” he murmured.

Thanks-Giving Back Hop Links

Sunday 22 November

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2015/11/sunday-snog-for-good-mm-201.html

http://leighwantsfood.blogspot.com/2015/11/coming-together-giving-back-hop.html

Monday 23 November

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2015/11/giving-it-away.html

http://delilahnight.com/2015/11/23/giving-back-blog-hop/

http://paidbytheweird.blogspot.com/2015/11/coming-together-thanksgiving-giving-back.html

http://wp.me/p1EqZm-Vt 

Tuesday 24 November

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2015/11/funny-brutal-tender.html

Wednesday 25 November

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2015/11/erotic-visions-for-brave.html

Thursday 26 November

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2015/11/bloody-good-erotica.html

http://annabetherotica.com/

Friday 27 November

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2015/11/release-day-for-another-coming-together.html

Saturday 28 November

http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2015/11/where-no-man-has-gone-before.html

 

How to Help Nepal

It has been six weeks since a 7.8 earthquake devastated the mountainous, impoverished country of Nepal. The horrific stories and shocking photos have mostly disappeared from the news, replaced by fresher crises. But the Nepalese continue to suffer, trying to rebuild their shattered homes, schools and hospitals while mourning the thousands who died in the catastrophe.

Faced with disasters of this magnitude, I at least tend to feel a bit helpless. Perhaps you have the same reaction. However, as a reader of erotic romance and erotica, there is in fact something you can do, something that you will not find the least bit painful.

As soon as you're done reading this post, go buy yourself a copy of my erotic vampire anthology, Coming Together: In Vein. Every penny you spend on this book goes to Doctors without Borders (Médecins Sans Frontières ), who are currently working, in very difficult conditions, to help meet the health and humanitarian needs of the Nepalese victims.

http://www.doctorswithoutborders.org/country-region/nepal

The 200 page collection features fifteen marvelously different vampire stories that break the stereotypes of the ever-popular genre. To whet your appetite, I’ve included mini-excerpt from four of them below.

I hope this post stimulates both your libido and your conscience.

Coming Together: In Vein is available in print and all popular ebook formats. For a full list of buy links, visit the Coming Together site.

http://www.eroticanthology.com/invein.htm 

Enjoy the excerpts!

 

In the pitch black sanctuary, iron nails popped from the knotted planks and dropped to the floor like heavy tears. The casket slid open with a whisper and the raven-haired woman sat up. She gazed around the room, her eyes easily distinguishing objects despite the lack of light. The smell of piety assaulted her senses, singeing her nose. The life-sized cross above the pulpit caused a hiss to sizzle from her ruby lips. But she had been invited in, and none of the trappings of religion could hurt her tonight.

She jumped from the coffin, her landing graceful and cat-like, and then Mab slipped silently through the church.

Michael tossed to and fro on the bed, his sleep tortured. She watched him for many minutes, savoring the long-awaited sight of him – reveling in his imminent capture.

Her arms had not been enough to hold him when she was human. Her love was no match for the love of his God. But she had waited patiently, allowing his guilt and celibacy to wear on him. This night was destined. The moment tasted finer than blood. Her body would be the only altar he would worship at from this point on. The excitement humming through her was akin to the pinnacle before an orgasm. She knew bliss was moments away, but planned to draw it out. She would enjoy every succulent morsel of Father Michael’s corruption.

~ From “My Soul to Take” by Kimber Vale

I stride to a shadowed corner and watch for food. The rhythm of the music brings a booming to my brain as my eyes slide along the flesh exposed, watching for that look, that swiftly beating pulse in his throat.

Whispers begin as I am glimpsed by the regulars, and I know all it will take is a crook of my head and a smoldering gaze. It's too easy here. I am not seen. I am simply a fantasy come true, made all the more fantastic by my refusal to be showy in dress or demeanor. A growl of disgust rolls through me. I choose my meat, a tall broad-shouldered goth boy with long black hair and a carefully trimmed beard. I draw him to me, and lead him out to the alley. He thinks this is a quick fuck, and drops to his knees. My hand grips him by that delicious hair and yanks him up, tossing him against the wall. I want to savor this meal. He needs to last.

I pull out my blade and show it to him. His eyes widen and he whispers, "My safeword is chocolate." I am surprised. Most who frequent the fetish scene know nothing about real BDSM. That these are the first words out of his mouth shows that there may be more to this boy than I thought. I stand still, watching him. He is older than I had first surmised, at least twenty four. The little leather he wears is well kept, his belt clearly conditioned and his boots cared for by a loving hand. He is motionless, knees slightly bent, shoulders back, offering me his chest. His pulse is not rapid, but his eyes eat up the knife and his lips are slightly parted, as if all he wanted was to take my blade down his throat.

~ From “Willing” by Xan West

In the narrow alley behind the saloon I moved along stealthily, listening, trying to make out which upper room held Jess and her customer. A forced giggle through the first window was clearly from one of the other girls. On the far end, though, sounds so urgent and guttural they made my innards clench struck me like a brutal blow. They were hard at it. Jess’s soft, high moans that I remembered so well could be heard in between the man’s deep grunts of extremity. When those finally tapered off I could still hear Jess, her cries oddly muted now, as if her mouth were pressed to him.

I was in such a state of heat that I could’ve rubbed myself off right there, but my need to get to Jess was even greater. The alley was so narrow here that the low shed in back was scarcely more than an arm’s reach from the window, so I hoisted myself onto its roof and looked across.

The light of an oil lamp showed Jess’s bowed head as she knelt beside the bed, and just a glimpse of the now-quiet man. By the tremor of her naked back and shoulders she seemed to be sobbing, whether in grief or pleasure, but at that moment I didn’t care which. I just hungered to feel her touch on me, her mouth crushing down hard where my pounding need was so intense it burned, her fingers squeezing into flesh demanding to be unbound, her rounded buttocks filling my hands.

Then she raised her head, and I saw her wipe a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth. The brute had hit her! She saw me at just the same time, sprang up, and threw open the window. “Oh God, Lou…help me!”

I was through and into the room so fast I had no time to think about it. The man on the bed didn’t stir. What help did she need, whoever…whatever…she was now?

~ From “Jessebel” by Sacchi Green

She didn’t see him move. Yet all at once he was behind her, his hands on her shoulders, murmuring in her ear. “Barbara was her name. She was my girlfriend, back in college. A terrible mistake.”

He was so close, she should have felt the heat of his body, but it was as if a mannequin was pressed against her, instead of a living person. She could smell him, though, a sharp grassy scent that made her think of the country and wide open spaces.

Casually he trailed a finger up the side of her neck and circled her earlobe. A shiver raced through her, winding tight around her nipples, spiraling down to her sex. He nipped at her ear, playful, but hard enough to make her gasp. “As for me, you know who I am, don’t you? Or at least, what I am.”

Lara knew what he was saying. She just couldn’t accept it.

“Here.” Still behind her, he grabbed her hand and placed her fingers on his throat. His skin was cooler than the air, cool and smooth as marble. “Do you feel any pulse?”

“No—but—it’s just not possible. It’s just a myth. A fashion, a fad. Everyone these days pretends...”

He brought her wrist to his lips, flicking his tongue over the spot where the veins were closest to the surface. His mouth was hot, unlike the rest of him. A violent shudder of desire rocked her body. “Close your eyes,” he murmured.

I should call off this farce now, Lara thought, but she obeyed anyway. Something pricked at her flesh where he held it against his mouth, the tiniest sting, hardly deserving the name pain. Then there was heat, and a pulling, not at her wrist but somehow at her heart, which leaped up in response and began to pump at twice its normal rate.

~ From “Vampires, Limited” by Lisabet Sarai

Ebola - What Does that Have to Do with Snogs?

Assuming that you're not living on a desert island, you're probably aware of the Ebola epidemic raging in Africa. The scary thing about this disease is that it is fatal about 90% of the time. This makes it more dangerous than bubonic plague, the Black Death that ravaged Europe during the Middle Ages.

You can find out more at the World Health Organization website. 

As of August 1st, more than 700 people in Liberia, Sierre Leone, Guinea and Mali have died from the disease in this latest outbreak. I suspect that the number has risen since I found that statistic. 

What does this have to do with erotic romance or my traditional Sunday Snog?

If you're like me, you feel powerless. You want to do something to help. Sure, Africa seems far away, but in today's highly connected world, it wouldn't be hard for the disease to find its way to Europe or America.

Well, there is something you can do. Buy a copy of Coming Together: In Vein, the altruistic anthology of vampire erotica I edited back in 2012. All proceeds from this book benefit Doctors Without Borders (Médecins Sans Frontières), which is on the front lines fighting the epidemic. MSF is hard at work providing emergency health services in other disaster and conflict zones as well, including Iraq, Syria, Gaza, the Central African Republic and Myanmar.

Turn your love of sexy fiction into something productive ;^) by purchasing the book, which is available in both ebook and print form from a variety of outlets. To whet your appetite, I'm offering a snog from my contribution to the collection, Vampires, Limited. 

Of course you'll find lots of other snogs over at Blisse Kiss Central. Hop on over there after reading my excerpt. But first, leave a comment. I'll donate 50 cents to MSF for each comment on this post, up to a total of $50.

Can we reach 100 comments? That would make a big difference!

“Tell me about Barbara,” she asked finally. “The woman in the photos.” As soon as she saw his ravaged face, she was sorry for the question.

“I was stupid, inexperienced. And we were so much in love. When I realized what I had become, I crawled to her on my hands and knees and begged her forgiveness. I was so terribly sorry to have ruined our plans for a life together. Barbara, though, had other ideas. She pointed out that, according to all information, we could now share eternity. All I had to do was turn her, make her into a vampire too.

“I was reluctant, but she convinced me. She was so beautiful, I couldn’t bear the notion that she would eventually age and die while I’d live forever.

“We planned the ritual carefully, almost as if it were our wedding ceremony...”

“The photos–” Lara interrupted.

“Right.” Jim laughed bitterly. “I set up the camera to record it all. The initiation of my beloved into the realm of the undead. But it all went terribly wrong.” He choked back a sob. Lara felt a sympathetic lump in her throat.

“What happened?”

“Everybody knows how you make a new vampire. First you drain the victim’s blood, bringing her close to death. Then you allow her to drink your blood. That’s what we planned. That’s what we did. It was incredible, terrifying and ecstatic.”

“But?”

“But she died. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t turn her. Since then I’ve learned the truth.”

Lara was silent, waiting.

“To create a new vampire, you must suck the victim’s blood while you’re physically connected. While you’re having sex.”

“You’re joking!”

“No, it’s no joke. That’s why I ended up this way. That girl at the party—all she really wanted was my blood. But one thing led to another, and eventually we were fucking. I don’t think she really understood either.”

No wonder his little demonstration had produced such an intense effect. For him, blood lust and sexual desire were inextricably entwined. The instinctive drive to reproduce, to bring more souls over the boundary of death into the shadowy world that he inhabited, this was something he could not deny, and could only imperfectly control.

Lara knew she should be frightened. She should get out his seductive presence before she made a final, incorrigible mistake. The risk, the pure reality of it, only made her want him more.

He was watching her. She could feel his eyes on her lips, on her throat, on the rise and fall of her breasts as her breath quickened.

She glanced around the bar, filling up now that it was after five. Donnie’s was not known as a “blood” bar, but still, she noticed half a dozen men wearing capes and pale make up, plus two or three women in slinky black dresses and wigs. It was pathetic, the way they all craved a fleeting taste of inhuman power, a brush with immortality. And here she sat, thigh to thigh with the genuine article.

“I don’t fully understand it,” Jim said, obviously catching her thoughts once again. “Why would they want to be me? Power’s nice, but overall, I live a pretty lonely and miserable existence.”

“Maybe—maybe I can make you feel less lonely. For a little while.” Lara cradled his cheek for an instant, then pulled his mouth to hers. His lips were soft as any flesh, warm and muscular as they met and molded to her own lips. She tasted the wine he had been drinking, with background flavors of iron and salt. His tongue, too, felt human, jousting against hers, exploring, questioning.

Her rigid nipples pressed rudely through the stretchy fabric of her top, pleading for his attention. Of course he knew what she wanted. Without breaking the kiss, he cupped both breasts, tracing symmetrical circles around the tips. Her pussy clenched. Her thighs opened involuntarily. She rocked back and forth on the bench, rubbing her clit against the hard wood.

“Please,” she moaned against his open mouth, and then was silent, realizing that she did not have to say anything. He broke the kiss to throw a twenty pound note on the table, then pulled her to his chest.

“Imagine your apartment,” he said, close to her ear. “Think about your bedroom. And hold on tight.”

Why Curves?

By Victoria Blisse (Guest Blogger)

I was massively excited when my friend and fellow Northern Bird Lucy Felthouse asked me to co-edit a Coming Together anthology. I’ve been involved with Coming Together books from their very inception, in fact one of my stories is the very first story in the first ever volume. I love the idea and was very excited to be editing a volume for Alessia Brio. 

What was even more exciting was the charity was going to be Parkinsons UK, both Lucy and I have family members who are affected with the illness and wanted to do something to help. Giving our sexy stories and editing help to raise money for such a good cause fills my heart with pride and I’m sure the same can be said for Lucy.

Of course, I’m coming around to the question in the title. Why did we choose to do Coming Together with Curves? Well, for me it’s a no-brainer. Every story I write has an element of Rubenesque love in it. I write about big girls and I love to do that. Lucy and I chose to write about women with ample curves because we both believe there needs to be more of them featured in erotica.

One of my own favourite and often repeated sayings is ‘Variety is the Spice of life’ and I believe it’s the spice in fiction too. Lucy and I wanted to highlight the delights of the more amply endowed. To show that ladies with curves are sexy too. You get a lot of slim, big boobed women in erotica. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that per se, but I think you need to get a balance of body shapes in there to reflect that everyone is different.

I absolutely love the stories we’ve ended up with in the anthology, it is a real celebration of women and their curves. The ladies within the pages of Coming Together with Curves are proud of their shape. Yeah, they might have the occasional hang up but what women doesn’t? These girls are big and beautiful and infinitely sexy.

Here’s an excerpt from Bella Blake's "Girl Next Door” which illustrates perfectly how sexy the ladies in Coming Together with Curves really are.

***

The doorbell rang just as he was curling his hand round himself. Peter jumped and swore, colour scalding his cheeks as if someone had actually caught him in the act. He knotted a towel round his waist, and hurried to the door, silently cursing whoever was on the other side. Until he opened the door and found Josie standing on the doorstep. She was wearing the same shorts as the day before but her camisole was white today. It made Peter think of his fantasies involving her and the satin nightdress. His throat went dry as if he’d just swallowed dust.

“Hi,” he said, awkwardly, holding onto his towel with one hand and praying like holy hell that she couldn’t see the outline of his rigid cock.

“Morning,” Josie beamed. She brandished a small basket at him. “I made breakfast muffins.”

The freshly baked smell coming from the basket made Peter’s stomach growl. There was no food in the house yet but he was hesitant about inviting Josie inside. Watching the sensuous way she devoured cake was one of the most erotic things he’d ever seen and he wasn’t sure he could handle a repeat performance.

He should have known Josie wasn’t the sort of person who waited for an invite. She pushed past him into the house, trailing the smell of chocolate, vanilla and blueberries. Her hips and buttocks swayed with every step she took.

By the time he’d caught up with her in the kitchen she was already tucking into the muffins. Peter watched, mesmerised as she crushed a blueberry between her teeth, a drop of blue juice touching her lower lip. He wanted to lick it off.

“Which would you prefer, chocolate or blueberry?” Josie looked at him expectantly.

“You decide.” It was the best answer his lust-addled brain could come up with.

Josie promptly handed him a fat chocolate muffin. The cake was still warm, chunks of chocolate melting on the top. She took another bite of her own muffin, vanilla crumbs sticking to her lips and Peter swallowed. Forget self-gratification, he was going to come on the spot if she carried on with that.

“Um, maybe I should put some clothes on,” he said.

Something sparked in Josie’s eyes. “Why?”

Peter gaped at her, floundering for words. “Because I...”

Josie put the last bite of her muffin on the table. “You haven’t offered to show me round yet, Peter.”

“I haven’t finished unpacking yet.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Right. Okay.” Peter set down his own muffin. “Well, this is the kitchen –”

“I’m more interested in the bedroom,” Josie interrupted him again.

Peter’s throat was so dry now it was like it had been bleached by a desert sun. He had this crazy idea that if she went into his bedroom, Josie would somehow be able to sense that he’d lain awake half the night thinking about her and touching himself.

But Josie wasn’t waiting for him to lead the way. She was on her feet and moving through to the bedroom before Peter could even collect his scattered senses.

The bed loudly creaked as Josie sat down on it, her large frame causing the mattress to dip. Peter tried to swallow past the dryness in his throat. Seeing Josie sitting there, demure in white, with those gorgeously plump legs dangling over the edge of his bed – it was like his night-time fantasy come to life. She was staring at him and there was nothing demure in her eyes. They sparked with bright fire when she looked him up and down, her gaze slow, demanding.

“Lose the towel.”

“W-what?” Peter almost collapsed against the doorframe.

“You heard me.” Josie arched an eyebrow. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been looking at me? You want me and I’d like to see how much. Lose the towel.”

Peter’s hands trembled as he loosened the knot holding the towel in place, and let the whole thing sink to the floor. His erection reared up, straining almost to his belly-button.

Josie’s eyes widened in appreciation. “Looks like you want me a whole lot,” she purred.

Coming Together with Curves Blurb:

Curvy girls and the men (and women!) that love them is the theme of this charity anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From Zumba classes to Burlesque dancers, all kinds of big and beautiful women are portrayed between the pages of this book. Read about birthday surprises, smut at the gym, horse riders, lusty couples, naughty neighbours, skilled bakers, rope bondage and misunderstandings from some of erotica’s best authors.

Sales proceeds benefit Parkinson’s UK.

Buy link: http://victoriablisse.co.uk/books/coming-together-with-curves

Visit the Coming Together website for lots more fabulous altruistic erotica, including Lisabet's vampire anthology Coming Together In Vein, which benefits Doctors Without Borders!

Lisabet's February News

New and Upcoming Releases

Coming Together: In Vein, my charity vampire anthology, is now available in ebook and print, from a wide variety of booksellers. I want to thank my fellow authors, many of whom have kindly featured the book on their blogs to help me get the word out. As you probably know by now, every copy you buy goes to support the essential work of Doctors Without Borders. During February I plan to be doing more promotion for the book, including some giveaways. And speaking of free books, I will give a copy of my ebook short story collection Body Electric to anyone who buys In Vein and sends me a copy of the receipt. Two books for the price of one - what more could you want?

If you still need convincing, check out Nathan Burgoine's rave review of the book at Erotica Revealed. After mentioning stories he particularly enjoyed, he concludes:

Coming Together: In Vein was a very welcome surprise. None of the stories felt familiar or typical (some even crossed into speculative fiction territory) and it was a very welcome reminder that given the right authors, even something that feels as “done” as vampires can – pardon another pun – gain new life.

Since my last newsletter in December, I finished and submitted Rajasthani Moon. Furthermore, as you may already know from the whooping and hollering I've been doing on my blog, the book has been contracted by Total-E-Bound. This multi-genre opus (well, it's 52K words - is that long enough to be considered an opus?) will see VIP release in early May and general release the first week in June.

As you can see below, the cover is fantastic. It's a bit of a challenge to put together a set of images related to BDSM, werewolves, steampunk, Bollywood, ménage and Rubenesque in a single cover!

Here's the blurb:

Neither kink nor curse can stop a woman with a mission

Cecily Harrowsmith, secret agent extraordinaire, is a woman on a mission. When the remote Indian kingdom of Rajasthan refused to remit its taxes to the Empire, Her Majesty imposed an embargo. Deprived of the energy-rich mineral viridium, essential for modern technology and development, Rajasthan was expected to quickly give in and resume its payments. Yet after three years, the rebellious principality still has not knuckled under. Cecily undertakes the difficult journey to the rugged, arid land of the Rajputs to determine just how it has managed to survive, and if possible to convince the country to return to the Empire's embrace. Instead, she's taken captive by a brigand who turns out to be the ruler's half-brother Pratan and delivered into the hands of the sexy but sadistic Rajah Amir, who expertly mingles torture and delight in his interrogation of the voluptuous interloper.

Cursed before birth by Amir's jealous mother, Pratan changes to a ravening wolf whenever the moon is full. Cecily uncovers the counter-spell that can reverse the effects of the former queen's hex and tries to trade that information for her freedom. Drawn to the fierce wolf-man and sympathising with his suffering, she volunteers to serve as the sacrifice required by the ritual – offering her body to the beast. In return, the Rajah reveals Rajasthan's amazing secret source of energy. In the face of almost impossible odds, Cecily has accomplished the task entrusted to her by the Empire. But can she really bear to leave the virile half-brothers and their colourful land behind and return to constraints of her life in England?

Other News

To make up for having abandoned you last month, I have another brand new story for you, just in time for this month's festival of love. Old-Fashioned Valentine is a romantic BDSM tale about a woman whose master has a traditional streak.

If you're in the mood for more Valentine's stories, check out Ordinary Miracless, a M/M Valentine's erotic romance (X-rated) featuring the characters from Necessary Madness or The Origin of St. Valentine's Day, a erotic myth with a grain of historical truth.

Are you on Goodreads? I don't do Facebook, but I really enjoy hanging out and sharing information and opinions about books. Feel free to friend me there, or check out my reviews. Also, Total-E-Bound has established a new Goodreads group which you're very welcome to join. Members will be the first to hear about TEB releases and promotions, as well as getting the chance to chat with all our great authors.

Did you get your holiday gift from me? Back around the turn of the year, I was gave away free PDF books of two of my holiday stories, Last Minute Gift (M/M) and Silver Bells (M/F/M BDSM ménage), complete with covers designed by me. If you somehow missed out, just send me an email (lisabet -- at -- lisabetsarai.com) telling me which one you'd like, and I'll send it along.

Contests!
Congratulations to Pagan Lady, who won my December contest. I'm sending her an ebook copy of Nasty Business.

For my February contest, I'm offering a $25 Amazon gift certificate. Yes, that's a big prize, but I didn't have a contest in January (if you don't count all the giveaways on my blog!). What do you have to do to get in on the action? Send me an email at contest -- at -- lisabetsarai.com with the subject line "Favorite Book Contest". Let me know which of my books you've enjoyed the most, and why. (If you've never read anything by me, that's okay, you can tell me, and I'll still enter you in the contest!)

As usual, I'll announce the winner in my next newsletter.

Lisabet's Pick of the Month
 
My pick of the month for February is Elle Q. Sabine's web site. Her Misbegotten Misses series has a freshness that I really admire, and the covers are absolutely magnificent. Drop by and pay her a visit!

Vampires for Christmas

In case you missed my post yesterday, I'm celebrating the release of Coming Together: In Vein, a charity anthology of vampire erotica and erotic romance which benefits Doctors Without Borders. I thought you might like to see the table of contents before deciding whether to buy it. Here you go.

• Nixie's in Love – C. Sanchez-Garcia
• Jessebel – Sacchi Green
• Willing – Xan West
• Kiss and Make Up – Ashley Lister
• Devouring Heart – Andrea Dale
• Blood Tint – Raziel Moore
• The Taste of B Negative – Cheyenne Blue
• You'll Love the City – Naomi Bellina
• It's Lovely. It's Horrible – Kathleen Bradean
• The Curse – M. Christian
• Red Wet Kiss – Beryl Falls
• The New Normal – Jay Lygon
• Cat – Giselle Renarde
• One More Transformation – Nobilis Reed
• Vampires, Limited – Lisabet Sarai

Quite a few of the stories are GLBT-themed. Several focus on BDSM relationships (which always seem so appropriate when you're talking about vampires). You'll also find sci fi, humor, and plain old (well, not plain!) romance - though every story is explicit.

Here's a snippet from C. Sanchez-Garcia's fabulous tale, just to warm you up.

***

The noisy Dollar General Jesus clock showed it was after five. The sun would be up in an hour. “It’s that time.” he heard her whisper. Dan saw her eyes and suddenly made the connection.

Before he could move, she sprang at him. She had him.

Goddamn, she was so fast.

In an instant he was whirled through the air and landed softly but soundly on his back. She stretched on top of him like a pantheress, making a soothing noise that seemed to creep in, making him sleepy. Her steely fingers pinned his arms. The needle sharp fang teeth were out now, gleaming brightly in the light off the abused lamp, pricking and stinging at his throat, as he struggled to look away from the crimson flecked, bottomless wells of her exquisite eyes.

"Now, feed me. Mein Liebling."

He wriggled his knees under her, then his feet. Her fangs champed and snapped viciously at his throat. Just as she almost had him, he got his feet against her belly and kicked as hard as he could, flinging her backward through the air. She sailed across the room and crashed into the far wall. The plaster shattered at the impact.

That goddamn cheap-shit drywall! There goes my Sunday.

She slid down, dazed for an instant, then jumped back to her feet like a cat, her fingers clenched into claws of demoniac fury. Frantically, he fumbled in his pants pocket. Just as she coiled for the fatal spring, he found it. He thrust it out, almost dropping it. A large mother of pearl crucifix, with a silver Jesus Christ dolefully impaled on its arms. She had said it was gaudy. He liked it anyway.

"Whore of Satan!" he cried "Back, undead vixen! Back to the Hell that cast you out! Back!"

He advanced towards her. She snarled and fell back throwing her arm over her eyes. Then she was moving fast, circling him. "You seek to baffle me with your crosses and your garlic," she sneered murderously. "You with your pale face, to me you are just some fucking sheep in a butcher’s!"

Jesus on a bicycle, he thought. What a cheeseball. She’s got that Stoker stuff down pat, too.

She seized the cheap plastic – replaceable – table lamp and winged it at his hand. He ducked as the lamp knocked the crucifix from his grasp and watched the cross slide out of reach under the sofa. God forgive me, but I absolutely adore her. If only she could cook.

She was on him again in an instant. They fell to the floor, clawing and twisting, like Tasmanian devils mating. He grappled for her arms, as her fangs snapped and missed, ripping his shirtsleeve.

His hand slid under the sofa, feeling around frantically. He had the crucifix again. Pulling it out, he shoved it in her face. She jumped off him and he tackled her, sweeping her feet out from under her. They rolled into the table and it went down.

She pushed him off and tore open her T-shirt, exposing her perfect breasts. The urgent pink nipples, erect and rampant, stunned him with lust like a gorgon. Faster than he could see, she swatted his hand. Again, the crucifix flew away from him – no idea where it went this time. He could hardly bear to take his eyes off her tits. He had seen them in various situations, pretty much every night for a glorious year, and they still nailed his feet to the floor every time.

She held him down effortlessly, her breasts dangling in front of his eyes, her knees pinning his shoulders. He wanted to just surrender to her, but first there was one more thing he had to try, just to impress her. He reached into his shirt pocket and took out a simple wooden pencil. Her lips puckered into an O of surprise when she saw it, but it was too late. He pressed the freshly sharpened tip against her heart. "Gotcha!"

He held it there like a knife. She climbed off and backed away from him delicately, her eyes wide with surprise. That was a new move he had thought of while doing a crossword puzzle. Feeling immensely smug, he backed her against the wall. "Strip off your clothes – daughter of Satan!"

Leering, she pulled down her jeans and panties together and dropped them on the floor in a bunch. She was naked now, except for the torn rag of her open T-shirt. She leaned dreamily against the wall, with its broken plaster hole, spreading her legs wide enough for him to see everything, watching him. He kept his eyes fixed on the pencil he held over her heart. If his eyes drifted down to the thick delta of wiry blonde hair between her moist thighs, even for a second, he knew she'd wipe the floor and the dinner dishes both with him.

***

Want to know what happens next? Buy the book! Please! (The link goes to the Coming Together website, where you'll find the most up-to-date set of sales venues.) And remember, every purchase entitles you to a free copy of my book Body Electric - just for the asking!

Merry Christmas to all! 

Sunday Snog from Coming Together In Vein

It's official. Our charity anthology of vampire erotica, Coming Together In Vein, is now available on Smashwords and All Romance Ebooks (with Amazon coming any day). To celebrate, I have a kiss for you, from my contribution to the collection, "Vampires, Limited".

As I've explained before, every copy of this book that we sell benefits Doctors Without Borders - and believe me, they both need and deserve our help. The authors, the editor and the cover artist have donated their energy, time and talent to support this cause. So I hope you'll be generous. Buy the book for yourself. You won't be disappointed. Buy a copy for your sister, your brother, your neighbor (assuming that he or she doesn't mind explicit fiction). Donate a copy to your local library! Help us get the word out!

To encourage you, I have a special offer. Anyone who buys the book can get a free copy of my short story collection Body Electric, just for asking. Just email me the receipt (saved as PDF, ideally), to contest -- at - lisabetsarai.com with the subject line "In Vein". I'll send you your free ebook by return email.

This offer is good until January 31st, 2013.

Anyway, that's enough marketing - for now! I'll be posting more information about the book, including the table of contents and excerpts from stories by other authors, later in the week. Now - on with the snog!

(And of course - after you're done with my kiss, click back to Victoria's for more lip-smacking action!)


****

“Tell me about Barbara,” she asked finally. “The woman in the photos.” As soon as she saw his ravaged face, she was sorry for the question.

“I was stupid, inexperienced. And we were so much in love. When I realized what I had become, I crawled to her on my hands and knees and begged her forgiveness. I was so terribly sorry to have ruined our plans for a life together. Barbara, though, had other ideas. She pointed out that, according to all information, we could now share eternity. All I had to do was turn her, make her into a vampire too.

“I was reluctant, but she convinced me. She was so beautiful, I couldn’t bear the notion that she would eventually age and die while I’d live forever.

“We planned the ritual carefully, almost as if it were our wedding ceremony...”

“The photos–” Lara interrupted.

“Right.” Jim laughed bitterly. “I set up the camera to record it all. The initiation of my beloved into the realm of the undead. But it all went terribly wrong.” He choked back a sob. Lara felt a sympathetic lump in her throat.

“What happened?”

“Everybody knows how you make a new vampire. First you drain the victim’s blood, bringing her close to death. Then you allow her to drink your blood. That’s what we planned. That’s what we did. It was incredible, terrifying and ecstatic.”

“But?”

“But she died. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t turn her. Since then I’ve learned the truth.”

Lara was silent, waiting.

“To create a new vampire, you must suck the victim’s blood while you’re physically connected. While you’re having sex.”

“You’re joking!”

“No, it’s no joke. That’s why I ended up this way. That girl at the party—all she really wanted was my blood. But one thing led to another, and eventually we were fucking. I don’t think she really understood either.”

No wonder his little demonstration had produced such an intense effect. For him, blood lust and sexual desire were inextricably entwined. The instinctive drive to reproduce, to bring more souls over the boundary of death into the shadowy world that he inhabited, this was something he could not deny, and could only imperfectly control.

Lara knew she should be frightened. She should get out his seductive presence before she made a final, incorrigible mistake. The risk, the pure reality of it, only made her want him more.

He was watching her. She could feel his eyes on her lips, on her throat, on the rise and fall of her breasts as her breath quickened.

She glanced around the bar, filling up now that it was after five. Donnie’s was not known as a “blood” bar, but still, she noticed half a dozen men wearing capes and pale make up, plus two or three women in slinky black dresses and wigs. It was pathetic, the way they all craved a fleeting taste of inhuman power, a brush with immortality. And here she sat, thigh to thigh with the genuine article.

“I don’t fully understand it,” Jim said, obviously catching her thoughts once again. “Why would they want to be me? Power’s nice, but overall, I live a pretty lonely and miserable existence.”

“Maybe—maybe I can make you feel less lonely. For a little while.” Lara cradled his cheek for an instant, then pulled his mouth to hers. His lips were soft as any flesh, warm and muscular as they met and molded to her own lips. She tasted the wine he had been drinking, with background flavors of iron and salt. His tongue, too, felt human, jousting against hers, exploring, questioning.

Her rigid nipples pressed rudely through the stretchy fabric of her top, pleading for his attention. Of course he knew what she wanted. Without breaking the kiss, he cupped both breasts, tracing symmetrical circles around the tips. Her pussy clenched. Her thighs opened involuntarily. She rocked back and forth on the bench, rubbing her clit against the hard wood.

“Please,” she moaned against his open mouth, and then was silent, realizing that she did not have to say anything. He broke the kiss to throw a twenty pound note on the table, then pulled her to his chest.

“Imagine your apartment,” he said, close to her ear. “Think about your bedroom. And hold on tight.”