Sizzling Charity Sunday - #CharitySunday #PNR #HotSpell #SierraClub

Usually I do one Charity Sunday per month. However, Dee S. Knight, one of our most regular participants, didn’t join last week’s event because she’d already told her readers her charity post would be on the last Sunday of the month.

You can find her post here: http://www.nomadauthors.com/blog/2020/05/30/alternatives-violence-palouse/

Please take a few minutes to visit and comment. Every comment is a donation to help victims of domestic violence.

Meanwhile, I’m supporting the Sierra Club this week. For each comment I get, I’ll donate one dollar to the Club, one of the oldest environmental organizations in the United States. 

Appropriately, my excerpt comes from my paranormal novella Hot Spell, which takes place in the mountain forests of California.

Blurb

The flames of passion are more than metaphor.

The city swelters In the grip of an unseasonable heat wave. Sylvie endures her solitary urban existence for the sake of her career, but the prospect of a hot, lonely three day weekend proves unbearable and she flees east to the pine-shrouded mountains. Far more at home in nature than in the city, Sylvie doesn't mind being alone in the wilderness, but she's not the only being haunting the glades and the trails. Her plans for a midnight dip are interrupted when she discovers a handsome stranger in the stream near her camp site. Hidden in the shadow of the trees, she can't help watching as he pleasures himself – or indeed, surreptitiously joining him in auto-eroticism. By the time she recovers from her climax, however, he has vanished.

Aidan finds her the next day as she sun bathes nude in a high meadow. It's obvious that his desire burns as fiercely as hers, yet he resists his own lust, refusing to make love to her. The muscular, sun-bronzed man with the red-gold hair is cursed with power he fears will destroy her if they give full rein to their passion. Can earthy, voluptuous Sylvie refrain from tempting him? Or will she risk being being literally consumed by love?

Excerpt

Sylvie awoke in the grey light of dawn, sticky with sweat and pussy-juice. Her clit still throbbed from her intense dream. She half-expected to see livid burn marks on her breasts and belly. However, her dusky olive skin was as flawless as ever.

I’ve got to find myself a lover, she told herself as she showered and dressed for work. Two years is too long. It was so difficult to meet people here in the city, though. She hated the bars and the parties—all the gym-toned guys wearing Abercrombie and Fitch, flashing their iPhones and bragging about their stock options. She had scarcely any friends, aside from Alice and Jill at work, and, really, they were more like acquaintances—not people with whom she could share her heart. For the thousandth time, she wondered whether she’d made the wrong decision, moving to the metropolis from the farm town upstate where she’d been born. She’d done it for the sake of her career, and that, at least, was thriving. The rest of her life, however, felt bleak and empty.

The sun was just peeking over the hills when she climbed to her rooftop garden. Even here, four storeys above the street, not a hint of morning coolness stirred the thick air. Her basil and oregano drooped, limp and sad, beaten down by the unseasonable heat…just as she was. A coating of dust dulled the normally shiny foliage of her dwarf lemon tree. The leaves of her strawberry plants were edged with brown. Only her morning glories appeared to be unaffected by the soaring temperatures, their iridescent purple blooms opening to welcome the rising sun.

Sylvie turned on the hose and gave her beloved plants a good soaking. The herbs perked up and a faint, welcome scent of growing things reached her. Humming an old folk song, she sprayed the dust off the lemon leaves and gently irrigated the strawberries. They’d both flower soon, she noted. One small benefit of the heat wave.

Seating herself on the wrought-iron bench in the centre of the garden, she filled her lungs with the smells of green plants and fertile earth. A familiar sense of peace stole over her. If only I could stay here all day. Alas, she had a staff meeting at nine, and an appointment with a potential new client at two-thirty. But I could leave after that, she realised. It was Friday. No one would miss her if she ducked out a few hours before normal quitting time, especially since Monday was a holiday. She expected that quite a few of her colleagues would want to get started early on their long weekend.

Sylvie had no plans, though. For her, it would be an endless, lonely three days…and oppressively hot, too, according to the forecasts. All at once, she couldn’t bear the notion of spending the weekend by herself in the sweltering city.

The hills, normally a brilliant emerald at this time of year, had turned a premature yellow. Sylvie gazed off to the east, imagining soaring pines and gleaming white summits. A yearning seized her—an almost physical need to be in the woods again. She smiled and brushed her unruly hair out of her eyes. Camping would be just the thing. It was barely Memorial Day. There wouldn’t be any crowds. There might even still be snow.

She bounded down the stairs to pack her gear, singing to herself. Being alone in the mountains didn’t bother her at all. In fact, it was just what she needed.

Please don’t forget to leave a comment – or to visit Dee’s Charity Sunday Post:

http://www.nomadauthors.com/blog/2020/05/30/alternatives-violence-palouse

Sizzling Sunday: Hot Spell -- #pnr #elementals #nature

Happy Sunday! I’ve got a literally steamy excerpt for you today, from my paranormal erotic romance novella Hot Spell. I figured this was appropriate, now that we’re well on our way to spring.

Here’s the blurb:

The flames of passion are more than metaphor.

The city swelters In the grip of an unseasonable heat wave. Sylvie endures her solitary urban existence for the sake of her career, but the prospect of a hot, lonely three day weekend proves unbearable and she flees east to the pine-shrouded mountains. Far more at home in nature than in the city, Sylvie doesn't mind being alone in the wilderness, but she's not the only being haunting the glades and the trails. Her plans for a midnight dip are interrupted when she discovers a handsome stranger in the stream near her camp site. Hidden in the shadow of the trees, she can't help watching as he pleasures himself – or indeed, surreptitiously joining him in auto-eroticism. By the time she recovers from her climax, however, he has vanished.

Aidan finds her the next day as she sun bathes nude in a high meadow. It's obvious that his desire burns as fiercely as hers, yet he resists his own lust, refusing to make love to her. The muscular, sun-bronzed man with the red-gold hair is cursed with power he fears will destroy her if they give full rein to their passion. Can earthy, voluptuous Sylvie refrain from tempting him? Or will she risk being being literally consumed by love?

And the excerpt:

The gurgle of water tumbling over stone grew louder as she approached. The very sound was refreshing. A few feet from the edge, she stripped off her clothes, draping them and her towel over a convenient boulder. She was about to step out of the woods when an unexpected movement caught her eye.

There was something splashing in the creek a bit downstream from where she stood—something…or someone. Sylvie shrank back into the shadow of the trees. 
 

Directly opposite her, the stream rushed over river-polished rocks, flecked with white froth. To her right, though, it widened into a calm pool, black as the sky above. The unexpected noise came from there.

She peered into the night. All she could see at first was a round, furry mass that seemed to float upon the surface. Ripples stirred as a figure rose from the water. At the same time, the half moon climbed above the crest of the trees. Its pale rays revealed the form of a naked man.

Sylvie caught her breath. His back was to her—a gleaming, sculpted expanse that swept down to a narrow waist, then flared into taut buttocks. A curtain of wet hair clung to his neck and shoulders. He took a step forwards, water swirling around his lean thighs. The grace and power revealed by that small motion made Sylvie ache inside. She’d never encountered such beauty in a man.

He turned then, and the ache deepened to an agony of want. Sleek skin stretched over his muscled chest and abdomen, strewn with glittering drops of moonlight. He turned his face to the sky and Sylvie caught a glimpse of features that seemed carved from marble—a soaring brow, chiselled jaw, sharp cheekbones and a broad, resolute mouth. The man’s eyes were closed, as though he was praying to the moon.

Then she noticed his hands, clasped below his belly in a firm grip around his erect cock. It reared up from a matted tangle at his groin—hard and smooth as the rest of his body. Her nipples snapped into tight peaks as she watched the stranger knead his rampant flesh. Slowly and deliberately at first, then with a quickening pace, he stroked from the glistening bulb down to the root. His cock grew longer and fatter as he worked it, hand over hand. His full lips drew back and his brow furrowed as the pressure and the pleasure built. He kept his eyes shut.

Sylvie licked her lips. Dampness painted her inner thighs. Her clit tingled and throbbed, crying out to be touched. Her empty pussy hungered to be filled. In a flash of memory, her dream returned—not the details, just the fevered arousal. Her body was on fire again.

She sank to her knees on the mossy ground and plunged her fingers into her wetness. There was no conscious decision—she simply couldn’t help it. Her folds were slippery and burning hot. She cupped her hand, four fingers deep in her cleft while she rubbed the back of her thumb over her clit. Pleasure shuddered through her. The swollen nub was hard as a pebble, so sensitive that she could scarcely bear to touch it. When she backed off, though, it screamed for more stimulation.

With her other hand, she massaged one breast, cradling the lovely weight in her palm. She flicked her nipple, striking sparks, then pinched it with all the force she could muster. Her pussy clenched in response. Waves of sensation fanned out from her centre.

A low moan dragged her attention back to the stranger in the stream. His right hand jerked his cock, fast and rough. The other was hidden behind him, moving in the same jagged rhythm. From his spread thighs and straining muscles, Sylvie guessed he had at least one finger pumping his rear hole. The lewd notion made her own anus twitch and tingle.

He was obviously close to coming. The realisation sizzled through her, pushing her to the edge as well. She dug in, mashing her clit against the heel of her hand and rocking back and forth, keeping her eyes on the gorgeous man jacking off barely a dozen feet away.

His biceps corded with tension, his teeth bared in a feral snarl, he clawed his way towards orgasm. Sylvie climbed with him, matching him breath for breath, groan for groan.

Even drugged with lust and poised at the precipice, she noticed a peculiar phenomenon Wisps of steam rose from the pool, twining around the stranger’s taut limbs. Hot spring, she thought as the water churned in a slow boil. The moon lit the mist, painting his flesh with an unearthly glow.

A choked cry escaped him. A pearly fountain of cum arced from his cock and rained down into the pool, hissing as it struck the water. The stranger’s eyes flew open. His gaze found hers, despite the shadows in which she hid.

The sense of recognition shocked her. This was no stranger. Deep in Sylvie’s belly, the last barrier crumbled. Molten pleasure surged through her, drowning rational thought. In its wake came a trembling quiet, a profound peace. For a long while, there was nothing else.

~ ~ ~ ~

You can get your own copy of Hot Spell here:

https://www.amazon.com/Hot-Spell-Lisabet-Sarai-ebook/dp/B0077RM2UA

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hot-spell-lisabet-sarai/1110738204?ean=9780857158086

Sunday Snog 229: Hot Spell (#pnr #heatwave #sundaysnog)

Happy Sunday! It’s time for yet another Sunday kiss. This one’s from my paranormal erotic romance novella Hot Spell. Seemed appropriate, given the imminence of summer!

When you’re done with my excerpt, head back to Victoria’s Sunday Snogpage for more oral activities!

The flames of passion are more than metaphor.

The city swelters In the grip of an unseasonable heat wave. Sylvie endures her solitary urban existence for the sake of her career, but the prospect of a hot, lonely three day weekend proves unbearable and she flees east to the pine-shrouded mountains. Far more at home in nature than in the city, Sylvie doesn't mind being alone in the wilderness, but she's not the only being haunting the glades and the trails. Her plans for a midnight dip are interrupted when she discovers a handsome stranger in the stream near her camp site. Hidden in the shadow of the trees, she can't help watching as he pleasures himself – or indeed, surreptitiously joining him in auto-eroticism. By the time she recovers from her climax, however, he has vanished.

Aidan finds her the next day as she sun bathes nude in a high meadow. It's obvious that his desire burns as fiercely as hers, yet he resists his own lust, refusing to make love to her. The muscular, sun-bronzed man with the red-gold hair is cursed with power he fears will destroy her if they give full rein to their passion. Can earthy, voluptuous Sylvie refrain from tempting him? Or will she risk being being literally consumed by love?

Get your copy of Hot Spell here: https://www.totallybound.com/hot-spell

Or here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0077RM2UA

Or here: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-hotspell-679926-140.html

A gasp…and not her own. Her eyes flew open.

“Don’t stop,” he cried. A man loomed over her—a man with a deep tan, a blond ponytail and eyes flecked with gold. The man from the creek.

Embarrassment flooded her. A flush spread like wildfire across her skin. She snatched her hand from her sex. Musk welled up, filling her nostrils. The stranger’s eyes were nailed to her trembling body.

“You don’t need to stop.” He sank to his knees between her splayed feet. “Please—you look so amazing…” He reached out as though to touch her, then stopped himself.

“I know you.” He wore the uniform of the National Park Service, but she’d recognise that powerful frame, that muscular grace, anywhere.

“I’d like to know you,” he murmured. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.” He smiled. It seemed to Sylvie that the sun had been clouded till then and was just beginning to shine. “Don’t be shy. Go ahead and pleasure yourself…”

“I don’t want to,” she told him, unable to look away from those gold-glinting eyes. But she did want to, wanted to stretch and writhe before him, lewd and proud, showing him what her lush body was capable of.

“Touch yourself,” he urged.

“No.” Sylvie propped herself up on her elbows, spreading her thighs wider. “You do it.”

She saw a kind of struggle in his face. She cupped her breasts, offering them, willing to do anything to lure him towards her pussy. He lunged forwards, strong fingers clamping down on her thighs. He was closer now and she could see his sculpted features, a shiny scar on his temple, the fierce gleam in his eyes. His luscious mouth opened then closed again. He licked his lips.

“Please,” she begged, holding her weeping pussy open so that he could see the slippery pink folds.

With a strangled moan, he bent his mouth to her soaked sex. She felt his tongue like a lash of fire, streaking through her cleft and then curling round her centre. All at once she was on the edge again, ready to ignite. He sucked her clit into his mouth, prodding it with his tongue. Meanwhile, his fingers kneaded her thighs hard enough to leave bruises.

Her cunt was seething. It would boil over in an instant. The man buried his face deep in her pussy, heedless of his own need to breathe. His nose mashed her aching clit and then everything went white as climax raged through her.

He was still licking as the shocks died away. Sylvie’s pussy fluttered and twitched while the stranger nibbled, stroked, and probed her depths. Usually she was too sensitive to touch herself after an orgasm, but now she found that she craved even more intense sensation. Her hunger had only increased. The cataclysmic surge of pleasure that had rocked her seemed only a step towards a fiercer climax.

The stranger devoured her as though starved for her sustenance. He sucked her labia into his mouth and tongued her hole, sending new sparks racing through her. At the same time, he teased the inside of her thighs and tickled her curly bush.

“More,” she gasped, sinking her fingers into his hair and pressing his face to her cunt. She arched up to give him better access. He responded by reaching beneath her to cradle her butt in his big hands. Now he held her sex to his mouth as though eating a juicy piece of fruit. The strength she sensed in those hands only drove her higher.

Tendrils of fiery pleasure scorched her. She was about to explode once more. She’d never felt anything like this—this kind of heat and urgency—even in her most passionate encounters. Who was this man, who knew her body so well that he could bring her to the brink of release in just a few moments?

The History of Rough Weather

Today is release day for my new paranormal novella Rough Weather over at Totally Bound. This book is actually a sort of prequel for my novella Hot Spell, which was published way back in 2011.

Hot Spell tells the story of Sylvie, a loner drawn to the forests but forced into an urban existence for the sake of her career, and Aidan, a man hiding from the world and struggling with a terrible secret.

As the city sizzles in the grip of an unseasonable heat wave, Sylvie flees east to the pine-shrouded mountains. She doesn't mind being alone in the wilderness, but she's not the only being haunting the glades and the trails. Antisocial fire warden Aidan is fiercely attracted to the voluptuous beauty he finds sun bathing nude in a high meadow, but he must resist his overwhelming desire for the sake of her safety. The sun-bronzed man with the red-gold hair is cursed with power he knows will destroy her if they give full rein to their passion.

Of course, given that this is erotic romance, they do eventually succumb to their mutual attraction, kindling a literal conflagration that consumes everything around them.

When I began writing Hot Spell, I was pretty sure how it would end - with Sylvie coming to understand her own power, the counterpoint to Aidan's. However, much to my surprise, during the last few pages, two new characters showed up. I really didn't expect this at all, but as they walked onto the scene, I realized they'd need their own story someday.

That day didn't come for quite a while. Back in early 2012, I ran a contest for my readers. The prize was a custom story, written based on the winner's specifications. My winner, long time fan Juliana, had read Hot Spell. She suggested I tell the tale of Ondine and Marut, and asked that I throw in some BDSM, too.

I was happy to oblige.

Anyway, to celebrate the release of Rough Weather (which has been a long time coming - it was accepted in mid-2012!), I thought I'd share part of the ending from Hot Spell, where Ondine and Marut first burst from my imagination onto the page. Furthermore, I'm giving away a copy of Hot Spell to one person who leaves a comment. What I want to know is, should I write a third story in this universe, a polyamorous tale featuring all four of the Elementals? That's clearly suggested by the snippet below. Would you like to read more?

********

“That tickles!” she protested.

“What?” Aidan probed deeper into her sex. “This?”

“No, no—what you’re doing to my ass…”

“But I’m not doing anything…”

Another delicate touch, climbing up her hip. Sylvie opened her eyes and gasped in wonder.

A strand of some vine coiled up from behind her, brilliant green against her sooty skin. As she watched, it slithered across her flesh, sending out new shoots, bursting into clusters of emerald leaves as it travelled along her limbs. It twined around her hips, sending runners into the thicket of her sex, cascading down her belly to encircle the pillar of Aidan’s cock. Moment by moment, the delicate strands crept over their flesh, binding them together in fragile, living chains.

“What the heck…?” Aidan looked alarmed.

“It’s all right,” said Sylvie, wonder in her voice. “They won’t hurt us. Look! It’s happening everywhere.”

Indeed, the crawlers were sprouting from the soil all over the clearing, turning the blackened ground green once more. The strands wound their way around the charred remains of the trees, spiralling to the tops to explode into verdant foliage.

The light grew as sunrise neared. The rain stopped. The mist glowed around them, as though they were in the heart of an emerald.

“The earth. She’s healing herself.” Sylvie felt a deep sense of reverence.

“No,” Aidan replied, sitting up to survey the marvels around them. “I think it’s you. You’re healing the earth.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Remember what I told you? About Elementals? Not just fire? I believe that you’re an Earth Elemental, Sylvie. You can control the earth and summon growing things.”

“That’s crazy!” Sylvie shook her head. “It can’t be.”

“But it would explain so much, my love.” He grasped her hands, sending the usual thrill up her spine. “That’s why our coupling didn’t kill you. You’ve got powers, as I do. Powers you’re not aware of.”

Sylvie suddenly remembered the landslide—the peace that had come over her and then the peculiar way the earth had simply stopped moving. Had she done that?

“I’ve watched you, moving through the forest. You’re at home in nature, in a way that I’ve never seen in another woman. You belong in the forest, in the fields, on the mountaintops. I’ll bet that you hate living in the city.”

“You’re right. It’s torture. I can hardly stand it. But an Elemental? Some kind of god? What would it mean?”

“For one thing, it means the two of you can be lovers—mates.” The voice was low and musical, like a river laughing over polished stone. Aidan and Sylvie turned to see two figures emerging from the mist.

One was female, tall and willow-slender, with a complexion like moonlight and silvery hair that fell to below her waist in a shimmering cascade. The other was male, stocky and powerful, with skin like ebony and a wild, wiry, inky cloud haloing his skull. Both were naked. Both shone with an unearthly beauty.

“I am Ondine,” said the woman, answering Sylvie’s unspoken question. “And this is Marut. We were called by your coupling.”

“You’re Elementals, too.” Aidan rose, brushing off the twining lianas, and helped Sylvie to her feet. There was no question in his voice.

“Of water and air,” said Marut, stretching out his arms. A warm wind rustled the new foliage cloaking the burned-out clearing. Sylvie felt a stir of lust, mingling with her wonder. Her guilt didn’t quite manage to suppress her desire.

“We’ve been waiting for you—to complete the square, the four-way connection. Without all four elements, the world is unbalanced.” Ondine twirled on her toes, her fingers rippling, and the new leaves shed raindrops on them all. She held out her hand to Aidan. “Come, my lord of fire.”

Her lover took a step forward. A stab of jealousy made Sylvie reel. His penis was rock hard.

“Fear not, earth lady.” Marut’s voice rumbled like thunder. He stroked her bare shoulder. Her sex fluttered in some invisible breeze. “No one is going to steal your mate. He is yours, as Ondine is mine.”

*******

Don't forget to leave a comment with your email address! And download your copy of Rough Weather today! (TB can send the book directly to your eReader, just like the big guys.)

The Allure of Extramural Lust

Welcome to August Al Fresco, our huge readers event celebrating sex and love in the great outdoors. Our fearless leader Victoria Blisse has rounded up some of the hottest authors around to share their visions of extramural lust, and we're giving away some amazing prizes (see below).

What is it about the outdoors that stirs the libido? Is it the sense of freedom from constraints? No clothing, no inhibitions. The breeze whispering over your bare skin. Sunlight baking your back as your straddle your lover. The moon washing your twined bodies in silvery radiance. Civilization often cuts us off from our animal nature, but making love outdoors restores the connection.

I recall a special night on the slopes of Mount Shasta in northern California, lying with my lover, open to the sky and to one another. Nothing separated us from earth except our sleeping bag. Every sensation was intensified, as if nature reflected and amplified our passion.

Or is it exhibitionism that gives outdoor sex its special kick? Depending on circumstances, getting amorous al fresco can involve a significant risk of discovery. Are you far enough from the path to escape the notice of the other hikers? Is anyone watching as he peels down your panties and buries his face in your fur?

I'll never forget kneeling in front of my lover on the ramparts of a sixteenth century fort to suck his cock. Another set of museum visitors could have appeared at any time. That just made our lust burn hotter.

Urgency can be another factor. Outdoor encounters often occur because we simply just can't wait to get inside, away from prying eyes. Desire cannot be deferred. One of the most exciting erotic encounters in my life took place in the Colorado desert. We were driving cross country, and would reach our destination in an hour or two. That just wasn't soon enough. He pulled off the road and took me there in the sand, amidst the scrub and the cactus, fierce as the sun battering our half-dressed bodies. I didn't worry about scorpions or snakes until afterward. At the time, he was my only reality.

I've written quite a few outdoor sex scenes, so it was a bit hard for me to decide which one to share with you here. The snippet below is from my most recent release, Challenge to Him, one of the stories in the Tied to the Billionaire anthology, which goes to general release today. On the other hand, I was very tempted to use my paranormal Hot Spell instead, which takes place almost exclusively outdoors (since it is about the love between an Earth Elemental and a Fire Elemental). So I've decided to give away a copy of Hot Spell to one commenter on this post – on top of the Smut Al Fresco grand prizes.

Leave a comment on this post (with your email, please!) and you will be entered to win:

An ebook copy of Hot Spell

Plus 

A Kindle and £50 worth of Total-E-Bound ebooks.

Or 

£50 worth of Xcite ebooks

And be sure to check out all the August Alfresco posts at http://smutalfresco.co.ukand comment on each one to have more chances to win.

All terms and conditions are available at smutalfresco.co.uk and the winners will be announced on the 1^st September at the website. (I'll announce the winner of my ebook here.)

All the wealth in the world can’t buy willing surrender.

Andrew MacIntyre, heir to a vast empire of railroads, mines and mills, is the second or third richest man in America, and by far the most eligible bachelor among the society folk summering in Newport, Rhode Island. His mother has filled their opulent mansion with marriageable daughters of bankers and industrialists, but Andrew knows none of these callow young women can satisfy his perverse sexual needs. No respectable girl would ever consent to being bound and beaten, to serving and obeying him the way he craves. His money gives him the freedom to purchase anything except his heart’s desire—a submissive partner to share his life.

Independent, progressive and well-educated, labour activist Olivia Alcott has dedicated herself to improving the lot of the workers who toil in the factories that have made Andrew and his class so wealthy. The strike she organises triggers a confrontation between her and the handsome billionaire. Although their disparate backgrounds and values make them natural foes, something stronger draws them to one another—an intuitive recognition of complementary fantasies. Andrew offers Olivia a bargain—better working conditions for the mill staff, in return for a weekend of her unquestioning obedience. Olivia will help him deflect the attentions of the potential mates assembled by his mother, as well as providing more intimate services. Given Olivia’s origins, a more enduring relationship appears impossible—but Andrew is not the sort to give up something he wants.

Get your copy today!

Total-E-Bound
http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?P_ID=2243  

All Romance Ebooks
https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-tiedtothebillionaire-1268589-147.html

Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com/Tied-to-the-Billionaire-ebook/dp/B00ELMQMDM/

Amazon UK
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tied-to-the-Billionaire-ebook/dp/B00ELMQMDM/
 

Excerpt

“Olivia! There you are! I was afraid you were gone…”

He came up behind her, encircling her waist and pulling her body against his. All her resolutions crumbled.

“I’m so very sorry to have left you on your own in that nest of vipers.” Andrew nuzzled her neck, then tugged with his teeth at her diamond eardrop. A delicious thrill skittered down her spine.

“No matter. Everyone was perfectly civil. In any case, I completely understand. You’re the host—you’re required take care of all your guests.” Olivia marvelled at the calm in her voice, even as he cupped her breasts through her finery and thumbed her nipples.

“You’re the only guest who interests me. I don’t care a fig for the rest of them.”

He turned her around, pressing her buttocks against the rail, and stroked her cheek. “Olivia—” It was too dark for her to read his expression, but his voice held an uncharacteristic note of uncertainty. His lips found hers, in a soft, tentative kiss that ended too soon and made her ache for more.

She searched his face in the gloom. “Yes? What can I do for you, sir?”

His whole body stiffened at the title, as though electricity coursed through him. At the same time, the act of voicing her surrender melted the last remnants of her anger.

He tightened his grip on her bare upper arms—she’d have bruises tomorrow—and released a low chuckle, full of lust and menace. Wet heat bloomed between Olivia’s thighs.

“You’re still willing to serve me, then?” His fingers were at her throat now, testing her pulse before sliding down to trace her collarbone.

“Of course, sir.” His touch kindled almost unbearable arousal. She wanted to sink to her knees, to kiss his feet, to breathe his scent and rub her cheek against the glorious hardness at his crotch. “I am yours to command.”

“Ah, that’s my slut talking. Come here then, girl.” He hustled her back towards the entry to the pavilion. The building resembled a normal gazebo, but dragons perched on the tiled, upswept eaves and were carved into the red lacquered pillars supporting it. He arranged her between the gateposts, facing the great house, which glowed like a Chinese lantern. “Raise your arms and put your palms against the posts. Yes, that’s right. Don’t move. Now, how to bind you…”

Olivia followed his instructions, eager for whatever he had planned. If someone had looked from one of Wavecrest’s many windows towards the sea, they might have detected some motion at the tea house, but darkness and distance would hide the details. She found herself wishing that the moon would rise, and was horrified by her own depravity.

Andrew stood before her, pondering the situation. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Energy fairly crackled through his powerful frame.

“I know!” He seized one of the ribbons that draped her skirt and yanked.

“Andrew, no! You’ll ruin it!”

“I paid for it. It’s mine to ruin—just like you.”

She shivered at the thought.

The satin resisted his considerable strength. Pulling a penknife from his tuxedo pocket—to Olivia’s surprise—he sawed at the ribbon until it gave way. “T’will be strong at least.” He wrapped the strip of fabric around her wrist several times, then tied the other end to the post. The satin caressed her skin, but held her tight against the pillar. “Now for the other…”

In a trice he had her suspended between the gateposts, helpless to resist whatever came next. “Now, to make you more accessible…” He slashed again and again at the elegant gown, tearing through overskirt, underskirt and petticoats. A sea breeze stirred the shredded silk, tickling her bare thighs. Moisture trickled from her cleft. She strained against her bonds, wanting nothing more than to touch him, but with an evil giggle, he stepped out of range.

“Ah, sweet, you do look wicked! What would your Russian think, hey?” He leant forward to pinch her nipple, triggering a shock of pleasure, but backed away before she could make contact. “Did your precious poet ever bind you outdoors, in full view of polite society?”

“No, sir…” Dmitri had confined their deviant games to the garret they’d shared. She’d sometimes wished otherwise.

“Ah—a first then! And do you like being exposed, Miss Alcott? Does it arouse you?” He still wouldn’t come closer. Olivia caught a whiff of her own ocean aroma. Her pussy clenched on emptiness.

“You know it does, sir.” Heat climbed into her cheeks. Heat pulsed in her core.

“Yes, yes, I do know. I know you, Olivia. I know what you need.”

****

Don't forget to leave a comment! And please include your email address so I can find you if you're my winner!

News Flash!!  To celebrate the general release of Tied to the Billionaire, Total-E-Bound is discounting all BDSM ebooks by 25%. What a great opportunity to load up your e-reader with a bunch of spicy D/s to feed your fantasies!

New Contract - A Sneak Peek at Rough Weather!

Just popping in to share the news that Total-E-Bound has just contracted my new short, Rough Weather. Unfortunately the book won't be available until January 2014 - in fact the VIP release date is my birthday - but I guess that gives me plenty of time to build your anticipation, right?

Rough Weather is set in the same universe as my paranormal story Hot Spell. In fact, the main characters, Ondine and Marut, show up briefly in the latter tale. Rough Weather could be considered a prequel since it explains how Ondine and Marut found one another. The story is set on the island of Martha's Vineyard, a very special place with a lot of memories for me.

If you enjoy a steamy paranormal erotic romance with just a hint of BDSM, this is the book for you. Just to tease you, here's the blurb and a snippet.

Destiny hides in the tempest’s heart

Ondine has always felt at home in the sea. Orphaned at birth and raised by her grandmother on the island of Martha’s Vineyard, she has never really questioned her extraordinary affinity for the watery world. She concentrates on her work as a marine biologist, spends her weekends relaxing among the waves, and worries about human threats to her beloved ocean environment. Fears of a deadly pregnancy like her mother’s make her cautious about sex.

When she encounters an attractive but arrogant engineer on her private beach, surveying the site for a prospective off-shore wind farm, anger is her first reaction. A casual touch, however, transforms that emotion to incomprehensible, irresistible, terrifying lust.

Ebony-skinned Marut has his own talents – aside from his uncanny ability to swamp Ondine with desire. He can control the winds and summon storms. He informs Ondine that they share a supernatural heritage and claims she is his destined mate. She responds with scepticism and tries to resist the charismatic Haitian, but ultimately her scientist’s training won’t permit her to deny the evidence of her senses – and her heart. As a brutal northeaster batters the island and Marut’s life hangs in the balance, Ondine learns that true power lies in surrender to her elemental nature.

Excerpt (Rated R)

“I want to bind you.” Marut brandished a pale coil of rope Ondine had never seen before. He had stripped her of her clothes, settled her on her back on top of the quilt and told her to remain still. Simultaneously pliant and eager, she awaited his next move.

Standing naked at the foot of the bed, he reminded her of some Nubian Hercules. Candlelight made flickering patterns on the sculpted ebony of his chest and danced along the length of his massively erect cock. The luscious sight temporarily distracted Ondine from his words. Saliva flooded her mouth as she remembered his hot seed spilling through her fingers. How she wanted to taste him!

“Do I have your permission, pitit?” He trailed one end of the cord between her breasts and down her belly, making her shiver with delight. She struggled to remain still as he had instructed. “It will strengthen the connection between us, if you trust me enough to render you helpless.”

How could the bond be any stronger? Already her awareness was attuned to his, registering both his excitement and his doubts. One part of her was more than willing to accede to his request. Another cringed at the notion, near-panicked at the notion of so completely relinquishing control of her body.

He dangled the rope-end between her spread thighs and drew it upward to lightly brush her pubic curls. Electric pleasure arced down to her core. Her hungry pussy clamped down on empty space. “Do it,” she gasped, as he flipped the rope back and forth across her mound, grazing her clit. The panic fled, drowned in sensation. “Oh, please, Marut...!”

Her companion chuckled. His strong fingers clamped around her wrists and drew them over her head. Lust surged whenever, wherever he touched her. Faint echoes of fear returned with the first loop of rope around her crossed hands, but the purse of his firm lips upon her nipple banished her last reservations.

 

 ***

Better start counting the days - I certainly am!

Sunday Snog - Hot Spell

Happy Sunday!

I've been revisiting my paranormal novella Hot Spell, since I'm working on another story set in the same world. So I thought you might like a snog from that book - not a lip-to-lip kiss, but definitely an oral extravaganza!

After you've read my contribution to the day's snoggery, hop on over to Sunday Snog Central to read Victoria's offering, as well as lots more sexy kisses. 

Blurb for Hot Spell

The flames of passion are more than a metaphor

The city swelters in the grip of an unseasonable heat wave. Sylvie endures her solitary urban existence for the sake of her career, but the prospect of a hot, lonely three day weekend proves unbearable and she flees east to the pine-shrouded mountains. Far more at home in nature than in the city, Sylvie doesn't mind being alone in the wilderness, but she's not the only being haunting the glades and the trails.

Aidan is fiercely attracted to the voluptuous beauty he finds sun bathing nude in a high meadow, but he must resist his overwhelming desire for the sake of her safety. The sun-bronzed man with the red-gold hair is cursed with power he knows will destroy her if they give full rein to their passion. Can Sylvie refrain from tempting him? Or will she risk being being literally consumed by love?  

A gasp…and not her own. Her eyes flew open.

“Don’t stop,” he cried. A man loomed over her—a man with a deep tan, a blond ponytail and eyes flecked with gold. The man from the creek.

Embarrassment flooded her. A flush spread like wildfire across her skin. She snatched her hand from her sex. Musk welled up, filling her nostrils. The stranger’s eyes were nailed to her trembling body.

“You don’t need to stop.” He sank to his knees between her splayed feet. “Please—you look so amazing…” He reached out as though to touch her, then stopped himself.

“I know you.” He wore the uniform of the National Park Service, but she’d recognise that powerful frame, that muscular grace, anywhere.

“I’d like to know you,” he murmured. “I’ve never seen anyone so beautiful.” He smiled. It seemed to Sylvie that the sun had been clouded till then and was just beginning to shine. “Don’t be shy. Go ahead and pleasure yourself…”

“I don’t want to,” she told him, unable to look away from those gold-glinting eyes. But she did want to, wanted to stretch and writhe before him, lewd and proud, showing him what her lush body was capable of.

“Touch yourself,” he urged.

“No.” Sylvie propped herself up on her elbows, spreading her thighs wider. “You do it.”

She saw a kind of struggle in his face. She cupped her breasts, offering them, willing to do anything to lure him towards her pussy. He lunged forwards, strong fingers clamping down on her thighs. He was closer now and she could see his sculpted features, a shiny scar on his temple, the fierce gleam in his eyes. His luscious mouth opened then closed again. He licked his lips.

“Please,” she begged, holding her weeping pussy open so that he could see the slippery pink folds.

With a strangled moan, he bent his mouth to her soaked sex. She felt his tongue like a lash of fire, streaking through her cleft and then curling round her centre. All at once she was on the edge again, ready to ignite. He sucked her clit into his mouth, prodding it with his tongue. Meanwhile, his fingers kneaded her thighs hard enough to leave bruises.

Her cunt was seething. It would boil over in an instant. The man buried his face deep in her pussy, heedless of his own need to breathe. His nose mashed her aching clit and then everything went white as climax raged through her.

He was still licking as the shocks died away. Sylvie’s pussy fluttered and twitched while the stranger nibbled, stroked, and probed her depths. Usually she was too sensitive to touch herself after an orgasm, but now she found that she craved even more intense sensation. Her hunger had only increased. The cataclysmic surge of pleasure that had rocked her seemed only a step towards a fiercer climax.

The stranger devoured her as though starved for her sustenance. He sucked her labia into his mouth and tongued her hole, sending new sparks racing through her. At the same time, he teased the inside of her thighs and tickled her curly bush.

“More,” she gasped, sinking her fingers into his hair and pressing his face to her cunt. She arched up to give him better access. He responded by reaching beneath her to cradle her butt in his big hands. Now he held her sex to his mouth as though eating a juicy piece of fruit. The strength she sensed in those hands only drove her higher.

Tendrils of fiery pleasure scorched her. She was about to explode once more. She’d never felt anything like this—this kind of heat and urgency—even in her most passionate encounters. Who was this man, who knew her body so well that he could bring her to the brink of release in just a few moments?

Her climax beckoned and she strained towards it, knowing it would be more extreme than the last. He squeezed her ripe ass, obviously enjoying her ample body. Let me carry you, she heard him say, though of course he could not have said anything with his mouth full of her pussy-flesh. Somehow, though, she understood that she needed to relax. She opened wider, letting him in, letting him lead her towards ecstasy.

Don’t fight it. Let go.

Trails of flame licked along her thighs and circled her raging clit. His mouth was a furnace—melting her, refining her into a creature of pure delight.

Raising Your Temperature (Comment and Win!)

Hello, readers! Today's the beginning of the super Hot Summer Nights blog hop. More than one hundred erotic authors are participating, each of us offering excerpts guaranteed to raise your temperature. We're giving away two grand prizes, a $100 gift certificate from Eden Fantasys adult emporium and a huge digital reading gift basket with over 40 sizzling ebooks for your summer reading pleasure. In addition, many of the participants (including me!) are offering prizes for comments on their individual posts.

In fact, I'm not a huge fan of really hot weather. This is unfortunate, since I live in a tropical climate where the mercury frequently climbs into the nineties and there are three basic seasons: hot, hotter, and unbearable. My idea of ideal weather is October in New England: cool, crisp, and bright.

Nevertheless, extreme heat can sometimes be erotic, adding to the intensity of an encounter. I recall a long ago summer, staying with my boyfriend and his family in their lake-side cottage upper Michigan. Although he and I were in our twenties, we couldn't really make love in the cabin, where we had almost no privacy. And it was blazingly, outrageously hot, day after day over a hundred degrees. Finally, we borrowed his dad's car one afternoon, drove off into the woods somewhere, and had urgent, sweaty sex in the back seat. The sun beating down on our naked skin through the open windows – the way we had to avoid the too-hot-to-touch metal door handles – the mingled smells of perspiration and musk – the sheer thrill of touching after having been deprived for days – that encounter remains one of my cherished memories, both literally and figuratively sizzling.

That's the sort of emotion that fuels my paranormal erotic novella Hot Spell. As the title suggests, the story takes place during a spring heat wave, which sends temperatures soaring. To escape the miserable weather, as well as her own loneliness, Sylvie takes advantage of a long weekend to go camping in the pine-shrouded mountains to the east. Far more at home in nature than in the city, she doesn't mind being on her own in the wilderness. However, she's not the only being haunting the glades and the trails. The sun-bronzed creature she encounters inspires her sympathy and desire, but Aidan is cursed with power he claims will destroy her if they give full rein to their passion. If Sylvie can't refrain from tempting him, she risks being being literally consumed by love.

And because Aidan, the hero, is literally a creature of fire, the flames of passion are more than a metaphor.

Here's an excerpt from the start of the story, to illustrate.

****

He came to her in dreams first, conjured by the sweltering night.

Naked, she tossed in her sweat-damp sheets, drifting in and out of uneasy slumber. The muggy air settled on her skin, a stifling blanket she couldn’t kick off. Like a physical weight, humidity pinned her to the mattress. The feeble breeze coming through the open window offered no relief. If anything, it was warmer than the air in her bedroom, carrying with it all the heat that had been trapped in the concrete and asphalt during the day.

Her limbs were leaden. A dull ache pounded behind her forehead. When sleep overtook her, she found herself wandering barefoot on empty, baking sidewalks. The sun’s relentless glare reflected down upon her from the glass-walled towers on either side. Rivulets of perspiration trickled down her spine but failed to cool her. Her skin felt scorched, ready to crack and peel.

Then the dream changed. The oppressive brightness faded to sultry shadow. Flesh, not air, weighed upon her. Smooth, hot skin, slick with sweat, slid against her own. Strong legs tangled with hers, easing her thighs apart. Fingers of fire skittered across her breasts and danced in her sex, kindling incendiary pleasure. A scalding tongue licked its way to the hollow of her throat, then returned to seal her mouth with a steamy kiss.

He tasted of mulled wine, melted chocolate, cinnamon and cayenne. A sharp tang of ozone hung around them―the smell of summer storms. Lightning crackled wherever he touched her. She ran her hands down his muscled back to his firm, full buttocks, marvelling at the power she sensed in him. Her palms tingled and stung at each contact, as though she’d been slicing chillies. The strange sensation added to the pleasure simmering in her pussy.

She pressed her fevered body against his, trapping his erect cock between them. Hard against her belly, his rigid organ felt like a bar of steel fresh from the furnace. Every searing instant made her want him more. They writhed together, sparks of scarlet and gold whirling around them. Her clit was a live ember. When he brushed his cock over the swollen nub, she burst into flames.

Climax raced through her, a conflagration of pleasure that burned but did not consume her. As she convulsed in his arms, he plunged into her depths, impaling her on a pillar of fire. Another orgasm flared―exquisite delight and unbearable heat. Then he was coming, too, in a blistering, fiery flood. She felt herself kindle, char, crumble to ash. She had no regrets.

****

Want more? Just leave a comment (please include your email address) and I'll enter you to win your very own copy of Hot Spell. Tell me about the most erotic “hot weather” experience you've ever had – or read! (You don't have to go into graphic detail – but you can if you'd like!) Make us sweat! (And if you don't want to wait - you can purchase your own copy of Hot Spell here...)

Of course, every comment you leave also qualifies as an entry for the grand prizes. The Hop runs until the 24^th of June, so you have lots of time to visit and enter at each author's site. To visit the other participants, just click below.

Three Part Harmony

My music-themed ménage Wild About That Thing is out today from Total-E-Bound as a single title. Check out my X-rated excerpt below. Then leave a comment to be entered into my new release contest. I'll draw the winner on the 30th of November, whom will receive her choice of this book or Hot Spell, my other November release.

For yet another chance to win (and a different excerpt), hop over to Ann Siracusa's blog today and leave a comment there, too.

Blurb

There's more than one way to beat the blues.

Two things are important to Ruby Jones: her teenage son and her struggling club, the Crossroads Blues Bar. Her love life comes as a distant third, despite the efforts of Zeke Chambers to convince her otherwise. Zeke's the lead singer in her house band, a devoted friend, and an occasional lover. He can drive her wild with desire, but can't get her to make a commitment. Deserted by her cheating ex-husband, Ruby's determined she's going to make it on her own. She's hot-blooded like her bluesman daddy, happy to satisfy her physical cravings, but she's not about to let any man into her heart.

The stranger who takes the stage on the Crossroads open mike night upsets the delicate balance in Ruby's world. Remy Saint-Michel inspires irrational, irresistible lust as well as inexplicable sympathy. Overwhelmed, confused, guilty and worried about her prized independence, Ruby decides that the only way to deal with her two lovers is to push them both away. Zeke and Remy, though, have other ideas.

Excerpt

Ruby sank down onto the bed, suddenly unsure. Without a word, Zeke began to undress. She swallowed hard, her pantyhose growing more sodden by the instant as he revealed his blond-furred torso and muscled thighs. He stepped out of his briefs, setting his erect cock free. It reared up from the red-gold tangle at his groin, swaying a bit, like a tree branch in the wind. Sporting a wicked grin, he stroked it once or twice to coax a bead of moisture from the fat bulb. Ruby clutched the bedspread, her heart slamming against her ribs. Was this really happening?

No sooner was Zeke naked than Remy began to disrobe. He kicked off his boots, then dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner, to be followed by his jeans. Gone was the composure that had first drawn her attention... Was it really less than a week ago? Urgency and impatience vibrated in his every gesture. His swollen penis arced towards the ceiling in a graceful curve, bobbing with his pulse. He struggled for control, his hands clenched into fists by his sides. His skin gleamed like polished oak, smoothed over the sculpted curves of his hairless chest and lean flanks. Revealed to Ruby for the first time, his naked body was every bit as compelling as his face. She fought the urge to literally throw herself at his feet.

Her suit jacket felt hot and constraining. She shrugged it off her shoulders. The silk of her blouse revealed her taut nipples, straining through the lace of her brassiere. Her musk escaped the confines of her panties and hose. She was dying for them to touch her, but neither man moved. She was the one in charge.

"Please," she managed to choke out, holding out her arms. "Don't make me wait any longer!"

In an instant, they were both by the bed. Remy crouched down to remove her shoes. He kneaded her insteps and arches. She tingled all over. He worked his way up her legs -- massaging her calves, working his thumbs into the pressure points above her knees, stroking the insides of her thighs with a light touch that shot straight to her pussy. As he worked, he pushed her skirt up into a crumpled mess in her lap. She didn't care. She leant back to give him access to the elastic circling her waist. In one swoop, he relieved her of her underwear and stockings.

Meanwhile, Zeke knelt behind her on the bed, his thighs flanking her hips, his chest against her back, and his erection flattened against her spine. He reached around to unfasten her buttons, his blunt fingers brushing against the heated skin below her bra. The transient contact made her yearn for more. He removed her blouse, taking care not to damage the delicate garment, then addressed himself to the hooks of her bra. By the time she released the breath she was holding, he had bared her breasts. Her plentiful flesh spilled out of his palms. Zeke thumbed the swollen tips and lightning streaked down to her clit.

"God, you've got gorgeous tits, darlin'! Juicy and firm as Georgia peaches!" Zeke gave the aching nubs a pinch, making her squirm. At the same time, Remy's slender fingers parted her labia and warm breath stirred her moist folds.

"Oh..." She hardly had time to moan before Remy's mouth fastened on her pussy. "Oh -- oh, my God..." He burrowed into her, sucking her flesh into his mouth while swiping the flat of his tongue across her clit. Sensitised by days of self-imposed celibacy, her hungry cunt spasmed with pleasure under his expert attention. She tilted her pelvis and parted her thighs, trying for more contact. Remy probed her crevice, making her crave deeper penetration, before returning his attention to her clit. Her whole being concentrated on the tongue dancing in her pussy. A climax curled in her belly. Remy's mouth coaxed it closer to the surface.

All at once there was heat and wetness from a new source. Zeke's ripe lips surrounded one nipple. He swirled his tongue around the engorged bead of flesh, then applied delicious suction. His moustache brushed her bare skin, soft and sensual. Just when she thought she'd burst from the pleasure, he transferred his mouth to the other breast, leaving the first soaked with saliva, chilled and tingling. He used his teeth but Ruby felt no pain, only a brilliant stab of delight.

Remy reacted as her body tensed. He drove his face into her sex, plunging his tongue into her hole, mashing her clit against his nose. The duelling sensations, above and below, drove her into a frenzy. Her lovers worked together to brink her to the peak. That realisation -- that the two men were collaborating in her pleasure -- was what finally pushed her over the edge.

News, Free Reads and Giveaways - My November Newsletter

Steamy ménage

Paranormal erotic romance

Welcome to my November newsletter! Read on for news about my latest releases, free reads, work in progress, contests and other fun!

New and Upcoming Releases

I've got two long-awaited releases this month. Hot Spell is a literally sizzling paranormal novella featuring a Rubenesque heroine and a lithe, muscular outsdoorsman hero. In addition, my blues-themed ménage novella Wild About That Thing is now available as a single title ebook. (Actually, it will be released on the 28th of November - but you can order it now...) As usual, you can read excerpts from both of them by visiting my books page.

Speaking of my books page, I've added a category based index to help you find exactly the sort of book you're looking for. Are you in the mood for some BDSM? Paranormal? Gay romance? Just go to the corresponding section of the index. Many books are listed in multiple categories. When you click the link for a book, you'll be taken to the primary book page, where you can read the blurb, click over to the excerpt, and even -- gasp! -- buy the book if you're so inclined! Note that anthologies that include one of my stories aren't included in the index. That would just be too darned much work! But you can always review the Anthology page directly.

Total-E-Bound will also be releasing a free holiday Hot Shot by me in their December newsletter. It's a M/F/M BDSM ménage entitled Silver Bells. Just to tease you, I've posted a snippet on my Free Reads page. I'll link to the full story after the newsletter comes out.

Speaking of snippets, I've added an excerpt from Shorn to the site. Alas, we have to wait until May for that book!

In a few days, charitable erotica publisher Coming Together will release the fifth volume in their series of single author collections, Coming Together Presents: Teresa Lamai - edited by yours truly. Teresa is an incredibly talented author who is donating her work to benefit Amnesty International. You can read about the author, and pre-order the book, here. The stories in the collection all revolve in some way around the theme of dance, and many have BDSM flavor.

Other News

Want to win a Kindle? Of course you do! I'm participating in Victoria Blisse's second annual BlisseMas event. Basically it's a kind of blog hop, where each day a different author presents a holiday-themed blog post. Your comments enter you to win the grand prize, as well as other gifts from Ms. Blisse. You can find out about the details at http://blissemas.co.uk/. My day is December 5th. Don't worry, I'll remind you! Many of the participating authors - including me - will be giving away their own prizes. But you'll have to visit me on the 5th to find out what you can win!

And speaking of blog tours, if you're on my mailing list you already know that I'm doing a lot of guest blog appearances this month to promote my new releases, and giving away copies to commenters. Check out the sidebar of my blog for dates and locations. Every comment gives you one more chance to win. Your next opportunity is tomorrow (November 17th) at Hitting the Hotspot. I hope you'll join me!

In addition to Silver Bells, I've added a new free read entitled Refuge of the Road, a brief tale about wanderlust - with the emphasis on lust. I've also added a new review to my compendium of favorite books, of K.D. Grace's outrageous erotic fantasy The Initiation of Ms Holly.

On the WIP front, I've sworn to myself that I'm going to finish Quarantine before the end of November. Hopefully I'll keep that oath! I'm also working on a sexy short entitled "Turning on the Switch". Stay tuned!

Contests!

Actually, most of my "Other News" seems to be about contests. But why not have more?

Congratulations to Colleen, who was the randomly chosen winner of my Halloween contest. I got very few entries, though. I'm not sure why. Perhaps people were too busy getting their costumes for this year together to tell me about the past!

Anyway, I've got an idea for this month that I hope will excite you. It's a contest called "Everybody Wins". Here's how it works.

To enter, you need to publicly review some book of mine that you've read. You can post your review on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Goodreads, All Romance Ebooks, or the Total-E-Bound web site. Then send an email to contest [at] LisabetSarai.com with the subject line "Everybody Wins". In the email, send me the link to the review. In return, I'll send you a free book. The first twenty or so people to enter will receive print books. The remainder will receive ebooks. What could be simpler?

Of course, you get your prize regardless of whether your review is positive or not. You can say you hated one of my books (though obviously I'd rather you didn't!) and I will still send you your book.

Lisabet's Pick of the Month

My Pick for November is Marie Sexton's and Heidi Cullinan's fabulous blog "Cup 'O Porn" (http://cupoporn.net/). To quote the owners: "This blog is about men, and coffee, and porn, and sex, and wine, and music, and intelligence, and fun, and women, and really hot photos, and giveaways. And it's about how all that stuff is absolutely normal and we will no longer apologize for any of it."

If you like any or all of the above, do drop by this very original site!