New Release: Miranda's Masks - #SexClub #FFM #Giveaway #99cents

Today I’m celebrating the release of my transgressive erotic romance Miranda’s Masks – just out from Excessica. I’ve got an exclusive excerpt for you, as well as a giveaway. 

Read on for details! 

Blurb

Shy and serious by day—insatiable by night.

Betrayed and abandoned by her first lover, shy and studious Miranda Cahill freezes in response to any sexual attention from someone she knows and likes.

During the day, she works diligently on her doctoral thesis. At night, she finds herself drawn into increasingly extreme sexual encounters with strangers. Public coupling, multiple partners, age play, spankings, bondage, lesbian lust—each experience reveals new dimensions of her depravity. Her anonymous secret life begins to take over when she discovers that the masked seducer she meets in a sex club and the charismatic young professor courting her are the same man.

Dickens scholar Mark Anderson seems like an affable, uncomplicated Midwesterner, but he has hidden depths, myriad talents, and an unlimited appetite for erotic variety. With Mark as her guide, Miranda gradually comes to understand and accept the intricacy of her own desires, as well as to trust her heart.

Note: This novel was previously published under the title Incognito. It has been expanded, revised and reformatted for this release.

Excerpt

Marla still grasped her hand. “Come play with us,” she said, pulling Miranda toward one of the walls lined with couches.

Miranda felt sudden panic. Much as she desired them, she didn’t believe that she could bring herself to couple publicly like that threesome. Not now, not yet. Marla led her past the sofas and cushions, however, through a curtained doorway into a small, private space. Marcus followed. As they entered, Miranda felt his hands, molding her hips, cupping her buttocks. It was delightful but too brief, a flirtation, a promise.

The translucent drapery fell back into place. The three of them were alone. For a long moment they stood motionless, facing each other. What am I doing? Miranda wondered, acutely aware of the thud of her heart against her ribs and the swollen heat of her sex.

Then all her awkwardness and uncertainty dropped away. With her right hand, she reached for Marla, her fingers seeking the hard little nubs pushing through the elastic material of the other woman’s garment. With her left, she drew Marcus to her, reveling in the sensation of his tumescence pressed against her thigh. Marla’s breast cupped in one hand, Marcus’ scrotum in the other, Miranda kissed them in turn.

Their mouths were surprisingly different. Marla’s kiss was soft, almost tentative, though she readily opened her ripe lips to the probing of Miranda’s tongue. She tasted faintly of cloves, sharp and sweet.

Marcus kissed with a fury that robbed Miranda of breath. At the touch of her lips, his opened, and he seemed to inhale her, sucking her tongue into his mouth and tangling it with his own. Meanwhile, his arm encircled her hip and pulled her more tightly against him. He ground his bulging crotch against her velvet-clad thigh, setting up sympathetic tremors in her sex.

If Marla’s kiss was a gentle invitation, Marcus’ was a challenge. Once again, a fleeting impression of familiarity rose in Miranda’s consciousness, then slipped away as hands and lips expanded and complicated the three-way caress.

Marla broke away first. Without speaking, she pulled the jumpsuit off her shoulders and wriggled out of it, somehow managing to look charming rather than clumsy.

Marla was slender, but far from boyish. Miranda could not take her eyes from the dusky rose nipples that pertly tipped the girl’s palm-sized breasts. Her skin was golden all over with a light tan. There were no pale patches. Marla’s hips swelled invitingly from a narrow waist, then down to firm, straight thighs. At their meeting point, her neatly trimmed triangle of brunette curls left Miranda feeling weak and confused.

I’ve never been attracted to women before, thought Miranda. What’s happening to me? Then images from her past flooded her inner vision. High school, Rebecca—the minister’s wild daughter, long blonde locks flying, laughing as she danced at a party, while a younger Miranda watched from a corner, overwhelmed by a craving she could not name. Sweeping her eyes over Marla’s delightful body, Miranda began to understand how little she knew her real self.

Marla raised her arms behind her head, stretching luxuriously as she lifted her thick locks away from her neck. Miranda helplessly admired Marla’s elevated and accentuated breasts, the faint, symmetrical trace of her ribs, the slight indentations of taut muscle on either side of her dimpled navel. Then Marla took hold of her own nipples, rolling them between her finger and thumb, so that they lengthened and hardened. Her eyes behind the domino were locked on Miranda’s. “Do you like what you see, darling?” she asked. “Can you see how much I want you?”

She relinquished one of her nipples and brought her palm down to brush ever so lightly over her bush. Electric shivers tingled in Miranda’s sex as she watched and imagined the other woman’s sensations. Now Marla pressed the heel of her hand against her pubis and slid her middle finger in among the curls. Miranda could clearly see its quick, oscillating movements as it teased the woman’s hidden clit. Marla’s eyes were half-closed, her ripe mouth half-open as her breathing grew more ragged.

As Miranda moaned in sympathetic arousal, a hand squeezed her tit through the velvet, and another made lazy swirls across her sex. Hot lips nibbled at the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. “Marcus!” she gasped, writhing against the hard body behind her.

“At your service.” His voice was almost a whisper, close to her ear, but Miranda still caught the tone of amusement. She reached behind her, felt his warm, dry, naked skin. While she had been focused on Marla’s performance, Marcus had apparently removed his jumpsuit.

I’m giving away two copies of my recently released romance short Singapore Fling. Just leave me a comment letting me know what you think about the excerpt above.

Meanwhile you can buy Miranda’s Masks for only 99 cents until the end of the month!

Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077J37RW6

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B077J37RW6

Barnes & Noble - https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mirandas-masks-lisabet-sarai/1127499525?ean=2940158774584

Add to your Goodreads TBR list!

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36622764-miranda-s-masks

Smut Sunday: Anonymous Sex (#anonymous #incognito #sundaysmut)

I was trying to decide which of my books would be considered the “smuttiest”. But how do you define “smutty”? Does it depend on the variety of the sexual activities or interests involved? How intense or extreme they are? Or is smut a state of mind, a way of thinking and feeling that’s independent of your physical activities?

However you define the concept, my second novel Incognito (recently re-released in an expanded version by Totally Bound) has to be up near the top. My heroine Miranda is trapped between her fear of intimacy and her powerful libido. She engages in outrageous scenes with strangers, but pushes away the attentive and charismatic young professor who might actually care about her.

Her adventures incognito are triggered by an unexpected anonymous coupling in a disco. Here’s a bit from that first scene, which sets the tone for Miranda’s further explorations.

When you’ve recovered...head back to Victoria’s for more delicious Sunday smut.

She felt damp and disheveled. She made her way through the dark corridor that led to the ladies room. There, the light was bright enough to make her blink. A bevy of young women sparkled around her in tight dresses and spike heels, preening and perfecting their beauty like exotic and colorful birds. Miranda gazed at herself in the mirror. A stranger gazed back, long limbs and ripe curves, creamy skin flushed with excitement.

I should go home, Miranda thought, as she reapplied her lipstick and adjusted her clinging garments. Enough is enough.

She stepped into the shadowed hallway, seeing nothing but the flash of the strobe at the opposite end. All at once, from behind her, she felt a hand firmly grasp her wrist. “What…?” she began, then there was a finger at her lips, urging her to silence. She was pulled backward, against someone’s body, a man’s body—the evidence bulged against her, pushing into the small of her back. The finger at her lips brushed her cheek then flicked at her right nipple.

I should scream. The thought was fleeting, abstract. Meanwhile there were hands in the dark, silent and skillful. There was no force here, only invitation, temptation. She did not resist as her unknown companion guided her through some curtains, into a place of deeper darkness where the beat of the rock and roll was muffled and distant. There was a metallic sound of coat hangers disturbed by their entrance.

He did not speak, but Miranda heard his rough breathing as he cradled her breasts in his palms. Was it her partner from the dance floor? she wondered. She sniffed for his cologne but caught only the scent of male sweat and her own arousal.

A wave of lust washed over her. Miranda groped behind her, seeking that hard ridge of flesh she knew she’d find there. Blind, she brushed against it. Then one of her breasts was released and she heard a zipper tearing open. Now his cock was naked in her hand, pulsing hot, steel encased in velvet. It was strange and thrilling to have him slide back and forth in her palm, to sense his excitement in the hardening, swelling bulk she fondled.

The hand on her breast tugged, pulling her top down to her waist. Then it resumed its bold caresses, tightening thumb and forefinger on her nipple until she almost cried out. Heat flowed through her. She felt herself melting from the inside out, dampening, softening, opening like some tropical flower.

Her partner used both hands to raise her skirt. She rested her palms against a wall and arched her back, forcing her bottom out toward him, inviting him on. He stroked and fondled her buttocks. Each touch made her hungrier, more greedy for the sensation of his huge, unseen cock inside her.

A soft moan escaped her as he reached between her legs to cup her pubis. “Shh,” he whispered. She did not recognize the voice. Impatient, unbearably eager for him, Miranda grabbed her brief bikini panties and pulled them down to her knees. They were soaked, she realized, as she struggled to remove them entirely.

Her partner took hold of the garment. There was the sound of rending fabric as he tore them off her. Yes, thought Miranda, crazed with desire. Please. She spread her legs wide and rubbed her hind cheeks against the hardness springing from his groin.

She felt his fingers groping in the dark, seeking the entrance among the folds. They slipped into her. She pushed, trying to force them deeper. Now the head of his cock prodded her pussy, while his fingers still played there, opening, stretching, guiding. At last, the whole wonderful length of him slid into her.

She bit her lip, struggling to maintain their tacit vow of silence. He worked her, plunging deep and hard, sensing her needs without words. The shrouded beat of the music, the beat of her heart, the synchronized rhythm of their breathing—it was another dance, and Miranda poured herself into it.

The darkness was total. Still, Miranda, driven by instinct, closed her eyes. Other senses took over. The cloakroom was heavy with the animal smell of sex. Sound was muffled, subtle, no voices, nothing but the quickening rasp of air through open mouths. Wanting taste, Miranda burrowed her face into the crook of her arm, to find salt and a hint of musk. Touch, though, was the reigning sense, the glide of his cock in and out of her slick folds, the little twinge when he caught the opening of her womb. His coarse pubic hair like burlap against her thighs when he buried himself to the hilt. The sharp bite of his fingernails as he pried her cheeks apart, seeking deeper access, more complete possession.

* * *

So, was that smutty enough for you?

If not, tune in next Sunday!