Showing posts with label exclusive excerpt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label exclusive excerpt. Show all posts

Saturday, February 29, 2020

Let's celebrate Sadie Hawkins Day! #SadieHawkinsDay #Giveaway #Erotica


Sadie Hawkins Day banner
Today is the 29th of February, a date that rolls around only once every four years. By tradition, this is Sadie Hawkins Day, a day when women are allowed to go after the men they want, rather than waiting patiently to be pursued. Seemed like an appropriate day to release my new boxed set Vegas Babes: The complete series.

This massive, 600 page plus, volume collects all five of my outrageous erotica titles from the Vegas Babes series. It also includes a lively introduction by Larry Archer, the creator of The Fox’s Den strip club where many of the books’ most memorable scenes unfold. Pick up a copy and venture into a world of exuberant sexual excess and open-minded romance, where no fantasy is too wild to explore and everyone gets a thrilling, sticky happy ending.

To celebrate the release, I have an exclusive, never-before-shared excerpt. I’m also giving away:

o A $10 Amazon gift certificate;
o A free ebook copy of the first Vegas Babes title, Hot Brides in Vegas;
o A free ebook copy of my equally outrageous holiday title, Santa, Baby!

To enter, just leave me a comment. Let me know if you’ve ever gone after a guy you desired!
Buy Links

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Exclusive Excerpt

Laura might not be interested in girl-on-girl games herself, but she had to admit that her best friend looked hot squirming and bucking against the slave’s face. The slave was pretty sexy, too. Zoe’s near-platinum hair shimmered down her back as she dove deeper into Franny’s pussy. The sub’s bent-over position raised and highlighted her shapely ass cheeks, which were pale as two moons. Looking more closely, though, Laura thought she could discern faint streaks of pink on those white globes, in a regular pattern. The marks of Chantal’s whip?

A shiver of excitement ran through Laura’s body, tightening her nipples and dampening her sex. She’d never done anything kinky—never really considered it—but now she wondered whether she could somehow convince Steve to spank her.

Probably. Her big, strong, well-hung husband normally did whatever she asked, at least in the bedroom, though she knew he’d never want to really hurt her. That was fine. She was just a bit—curious.

“Hey, ladies!” Annie’s bright voice interrupted Laura’s lascivious musings. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable!”

The bride almost skipped over to the group of women near the pool, her ginger-colored curls bouncing. Although she was nearly twenty six, her petite build, freckled nose, unruly hair and slightly manic energy made her seem much younger. Annie never managed to get in to any entertainment venue without being carded. In fact, she’d had clerks refuse to sell her tickets to R rated movies.

Dropping the two grocery bags she’d been carrying, she gave Chantal an enthusiastic hug. “Thank heavens! We’ve been following the Weather Channel—looks grim!”

Chantal kissed her on the lips, a gesture the bride did not refuse. “It’s Chicago,” she replied when she finally released the woman’s tiny but voluptuous body. “It’s normal.”

“Well, I’m very relieved. I would have been so-o-o disappointed if you weren’t here.” The redhead looked around at her special guests. “This is kind of like a reunion for me—a reminder of one of the happiest days of my life.” All at once she seemed to notice the young blonde kneeling on Francesca’s chaise. Fran herself just lay there twitching in the afterglow of her climax. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met…”

Chantal gave her sub an almost imperceptible nod.

“I’m Zoe. I’m with Chantal.”

Laura saw Annie’s eyes go wide as she took in the sub’s costume.

“Congratulations on your marriage, by the way,” the girl continued. “I hope you and Ted will be really happy.”

“Um—thanks…” Annie gestured at Francesca’s limp form. “Is she okay?”

“She’s recovering from a demonstration of Zoe’s oral talents,” said Chantal. “Would you like Zoe to do you, too? I’m sure she’d be delighted to eat your undoubtedly sweet pussy.”

A blush darkened Annie’s freckles. “Um—thanks. Maybe later. I’ve got a lot to do right now to get ready for the party tonight. And my brother should be here any minute. He texted me from the airport.”

Laura sat up so fast her naked breasts jiggled. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Annie’s smile grew wistful. “My only family, since our father died five years ago. Rod’s going to give me away. That’s what Dad would have wanted.” Her sunny disposition reasserted itself. “I’m so excited! I haven’t seen him in more than a year. He lives in LA…”

“Annabelle baby!” A rich, deep, overwhelmingly masculine voice boomed through the courtyard.

“Rod!” Annie squealed, racing to meet the tall, dark stranger who’d just entered the pool area.

“Hey, Sis!” The newcomer dumped his duffel onto the floor and enfolded Annie in his arms. He wore a tight black tee shirt that highlighted his tanned biceps and sculpted pecs. A wave of delicious weakness swept through Laura’s body as she watched his muscles flex under bronzed skin. When Rod palmed Annie’s buttocks in a distinctly non-familial manner, Laura’s pussy tingled in sympathy. Now here was a plaything that interested her!

Though Rod was probably as tall as her husband Steve, he had a more slender, wiry build. His faded but expensive jeans clung to his lean thighs like a second skin. Masses of ragged, jet black hair covered the back of his neck and fell into his eyes, which had a compelling, hypnotic quality. His nose was aquiline, his lips as full as a girl’s. She caught the gleam of a gold earring through the shaggy locks. Despite the heat, his feet were clad in heavy leather boots. Still, when he released his sister and strode over to greet the rest of the group, he moved lightly, with the energy and economy of a dancer. His style and manner made Laura think of a rock star.

“And who are these beauties?” he asked, his slightly predatory smile showing perfect white teeth. Laura resisted the urge to cover her naked tits. Instead, she arched her back a bit, elevating them to his blatantly hungry gaze.

Annie skipped to his side, giving his hand a squeeze. Next to him, she looked about fourteen.
 
“Francesca, Laura and Chantal, this is my big brother Rod.”

Laura offered him her most welcoming smile. I wonder if he’s big everywhere.

“These ladies were responsible for my getting together with Ted,” the bride continued.

Rod arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Ted was best man at my wedding six months ago,” said Franny, though this really didn’t begin to explain the complicated connections that had led to Annie’s wedding.

“Anyway, I really wanted them here to help me celebrate.” Rod’s grin grew wider in response to Annie’s enthusiasm. He gestured toward Zoe, who was still perched on Fran’s lounger. “And what about this lovely creature?”

“She’s my slave,” said Chantal with pride.

Laura caught a flicker of something dangerous in Rod’s eyes as he took in Zoe’s clamped nipples and padlocked pussy. His fists opened and closed as if he wanted to grab her. “Nice,” he murmured. “Very nice. Do you lend her out?” He held Chantal’s gaze. “I won’t leave any marks.”

Chantal released a bell-like laugh. “Oh, Zoe loves to be marked!”

“All the better.”

“But I’ll have to get to know you first,” the ebony-skinned Domme continued. “Even if you are Annie’s brother.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to getting to know you.” He swept his eyes over the group of attractive females. “All of you.”

Excitement fluttered in Laura’s belly. Rod’s arrogant self-confidence turned her legs to jelly.

“Rod, behave yourself,” Annie scolded. “Franny and Laura are both newlyweds.”

“So? I get the feeling that none of you are exactly nuns.” He gave Laura a look she would have called a leer, if he hadn’t been so flat out gorgeous. “And didn’t you say you wanted to celebrate?”

Annie nodded. “Tonight’s our own little private party. Just close friends.”

“And family,” Rod added.

“Well, selected members!”

* * *

Sound like fun? It is! Pick up your copy today. (By the way, it turns out that Annie's brother is a rock star!)

And don’t forget to enter my giveaway. Just leave a comment sharing your experiences (if any) as the chaser rather than the chasee!



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Friday, November 1, 2019

The babes get kinky! #NewRelease #Giveaway #BDSMErotica #HEA


Babes in Bondage cover

At last! The latest installment in my Vegas Babes series hits the online bookshelves today. I’ve been working on Babes in Bondage – well, it seems like forever. I’m proud to present my latest literate smut for your entertainment.

Oh, and just to liven things up, I’m giving away a copy of the first Vegas Babes book, Hot Brides in Vegas. All you have to do to enter the drawing leave me a comment on this post to enter the drawing.

Blurb

It’s 9 PM in Vegas. Do you know your safe word?

Some people just won’t mind their own business. When an anti-porn terrorist group shuts down the Sin City Fetish Fair, Larry Archer offers The Fox’s Den as an alternative venue. With the assistance of newly arrived dominant Master Shark, plans for the Den’s very first Kink Night quickly take shape. Indeed, the denizens of the Den are practicing their BDSM techniques well before the event.

Blonde, beautiful and untouched, Patricia Hastings leads the Citizens Resisting American Perversion in their fight against filth. She’s determined to destroy the licentious, permissive, anything-but-vanilla strip club – whatever it takes. A smidgen of plastic explosive should do the trick... If only she can resist her attraction to the voluptuous, red-headed minx Annie, and her own secret craving for surrender.

Caught in the act of sabotage, Patty faces a choice: arrest, scandal and prison, or private punishment at the hands of Master Shark and his horny acolytes. Will C.R.A.P.’s paragon of purity uphold her prudish principles? Or consent to the violations that populate her forbidden fantasies?

Exclusive Excerpt

“And what about you, Ted?” Stephen gently tipped Daphne onto the floor and leaned forward, skewering Ted with his intense gaze. “Are you into kink?”

“I—I don’t know,” he stuttered. “Aside from a couple of spankings, I don’t have any experience.”

“You seem pretty turned on, watching me torture Daphne.”

“Because—well, because it looks like she wants it so much.”

Stephen nodded. “Exactly. That’s the key, the fundamental appeal of kink. You want to do all sorts of outrageous things to your sub, to use her body and mess with her mind—and she’s willing, eager in fact, to cooperate.”

Ted thought about Annie. Nobody would ever label her as submissive. Yet she loved to have him use her. She’d let him do pretty much anything he wanted. Her pleasure multiplied his own.

“I could teach you,” Master Shark continued. “My intuition tells me you have the makings of a fine Dom.”

Erotic recollections flooded back. Since getting together with Annie, he’d sucked Joel’s and Rosa’s cocks, been pegged by Joel’s wife Miranda and been butt-fucked by his best friend Jake. The memories made him harder, but they also filled him with doubt. “I, um, I don’t really think I’m the dominant type…”

“Why don’t we see?” He tapped his recumbent slave on the shoulder. “Daphne, go to the bondage bench.” The woman rose to her feet, crossed the room and draped herself face-down over a leather-upholstered rectangle in the far corner. Ted had assumed it was the back of a chair, but looking more closely, he realized this furniture was far more specialized. The position elevated her delectable ass, which was fuller than one might have expected from her willowy frame.

Stephen grabbed Ted by the arm. “Come on, man. Don’t be nervous. We can stop anytime you’re uncomfortable.”

As they came closer, Ted saw that Daphne had spread out her arms as if she were flying. Leather straps hung from each end of the padded surface.

“Fasten the restraints around her wrists,” Shark instructed. “Tight enough that she can’t move much, but not so tight that it cuts off her circulation.”

The final six inches of the strips were Velcro-lined. It was a simple matter to loop them around Daphne’s extended limbs and to adjust the tension. Ted tried to keep his fingers from brushing against her satiny skin as he worked.

Shark noticed and laughed. “You can touch her if you want, dude. She’s yours to play with.” He stepped behind the bound woman to grasp and massage her ass cheeks. When Daphne arched her back in response, he pulled back and slammed his palm down on the quivering flesh. The sound made Ted jump.

“Relax. Just remember—you’re in charge. Whatever you want from her, you can have. She’s as happy to serve you as me. Isn’t that true, pet?”

Daphne nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Sir.”

“Tell Master Ted.”

“Do whatever you want to me, Master Ted. I’m happy to serve you.”

Master Ted! Me? He almost giggled at the thought. The title seemed ridiculous.Yet at the same time, he felt something new stir inside him, a new sense of power. His cock stiffened in his trousers as an overwhelming wave of arousal swept through him.

He gazed at the bare, vulnerable body arrayed before him. She was bent at the waist, presenting her ass, with her legs apart for better balance. The position showed off the slick magenta folds of her sex. Moisture gleamed on the insides of her thighs, and her musky scent filled his head. She was turned on by the position, too.

Her butt bulbed out in silent invitation, the skin gleaming pearly white. He wondered, suddenly, what it would look striped with the red of a whip or a riding crop.

“Can I—can I whip her?” Ted asked, before he could stop himself. God, had he really said that? He’d never hit a woman in his life—well, aside from the spanking he’d given Marcy, which the cheeky girl had asked for.

“Certainly. What implement would you prefer?” Shark flipped open a wooden chest that Ted had assumed was an end table. The chest held a dozen different punishment devices, each one resting neatly in a satin-lined depression.

“Holy shit!” Ted clamped his hand over his mouth. It was one thing to fantasize about delivering a whipping, quite another to be faced by this abundance of perversity. He shook his head. “I—I really have no idea.”

“Any of them particularly appeal to you?” The Dom extracted a little whip with knotted strands about six inches long. “What about this flogger? Pretty easy to handle, with a nice, stingy feel.” The rich scent of leather filled Ted’s head as he inspected the offered device.

“Um…”

“Or maybe the tawse?” This was a fat strap, four inches wide and two feet long, of heavier leather than the tail of the flogger. One end narrowed into a handle, while at the other, the leather split into a comb-like arrangement. “This has a thuddier effect, so it can leave bruises.” Shark swished it through the air and landed a blow on the bondage frame, an inch to the left of Daphne’s breast.
Both she and Ted flinched.

“But Daphne likes it,” Shark continued. “She’s proud of my marks.”

Ted’s cock felt like it would drill right through his pants. “I don’t know…” he began.

“Then there’s the riding crop.” The fiberglass shaft whistled as Shark swept it in front of Ted’s eyes. This time, he brought the leather tongue down hard on the fullest part of Daphne’s ass. The girl yelped and jerked reflexively. A livid patch bloomed in the wake of the blow.

Ted watched in horrified fascination as the mark of the crop darkened and grew puffy. It looked as though it hurt. Yet he couldn’t help noticing the way the woman’s juices overflowed her pussy lips and dribbled down the inside of her thighs in the wake of Shark’s blow.

She was as aroused as he was.

She wanted more.

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Don’t forget to comment and enter my giveaway!
Be sure to include your email so I can find you if you win.


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Thursday, June 13, 2019

Sex? Sure. New BDSM erotica release! -- #femdom #dominance #erotica

 Banner image

I’m back to share another exclusive excerpt from my new release, The Heart of the Deal. If you like BDSM erotica with a romantic HEA (actually, two...), you should check this one out.

Business, bondage, discipline and desire...

They call me “Ruthless Ruby”. Not the most complimentary nickname, but I wear it with pride. I have no qualms about playing dirty – very dirty – if that’s what it takes to close a business deal. Sex? Sure. Especially if I’m the one on top.

I love the game, and I expect to win. But so does my competitor Rick Martell. He’s got some weird charisma that inspires helpless lust in every woman he meets. Even me. I won’t surrender, though. Oh, I do want him – kneeling at my feet, cringing under my whip.

(You could win a copy by commenting on my release party post...)

Exclusive Excerpt

I am in my Asian bitch goddess mode. I have pulled my hair back into a long, tight ponytail that hangs down to my waist. I am wearing butter-soft, black leather: laced vest, miniskirt, stiletto-heeled boots, broad studded belt. From that belt hangs an elegant little flogger, a statement and an invitation. My eyelids are silver and my lips are scarlet. I am gorgeous, I know, an exotic vision of female power.

I stride into the churning mass of dancers on the stage and begin to dance. The music pulses, alien and compelling. Techno is not usually to my taste, but tonight it suits my mood.
Swirling, grinding my hips, flicking my hair from side to side, bathing in the heat of the flesh around me, I am beginning to feel better. Richard Martell had best beware if he plans on crossing Ruby Chen.

Part of me is lost in the beat and the movement. But I am also scanning the crowd, seeking an appropriate partner. I notice him just as he sees me. He is a bear of a man, with lush black hair and a beard. He’s dressed in medieval mode, a flowing shirt of royal blue whose open-laced neck shows more hair on his chest. Riding boots, leather wrist-cuffs, a chain-mail bag at his waist. Despite his size, he moves well. His tight suede leggings show off his muscled thighs. As I hold his gaze, I also can see the telltale swelling at his groin.

With the slightest motion of my head, I summon him to me. He towers above me, despite my four inch heels, but when I fix my eyes on his, he cannot sustain the contact. Instead, he looks down at the instrument of punishment on my belt, half-fearful, half-eager. He licks his lips.

“Let’s dance,” I say, more a command than a suggestion. He nods, and we begin to move together.

I shake my shoulders, my hips. Thrust my breasts forward, so that the thong lacings part and he can see the shadowy valley of my cleavage. My body is close to his, close enough for me to smell his nervous sweat, but I do not allow us to touch. My crotch dampens. That familiar, demanding ache rises in my sex. I trail my fingers through the air, across his body, a hair’s breadth from his bulking erection. So little space between us—does he catch the musky scent of my desire?

I lean a little closer, so that he can hear me over the whine of the synthesizer. “You were staring at my whip. Do you like it?”

Underneath his beard, he blushes. He nods, reluctant but obviously excited.

“Do you want it?” I ask, pushing him further. “You will have to earn it, you know.”

The music is too loud for me to catch his response. But I see his answer in his face.

“Come with me, then.” I turn and slink toward the side corridor, heading for one of the private balconies. I do not look back, but I can feel him following me, sense his eyes on the tight leather that sheathes my hips.

When he parts the velvet curtains, I am already ready for him, sitting on one chair, legs apart with a booted foot on each of two others.

“Remove your shirt. And kneel.”

He does not require more explicit instructions. He pulls his lovely blue tunic over his head. His torso is powerful and darkly furred. His bulk making him a bit clumsy, he lowers himself to the appropriate position between my thighs, then looks up at me for further orders.

I recall my fair-haired, graceful supplicant of earlier in the day; poor, ambitious Mr. Dalton. The memory makes me hotter. Power surges in me.

“Now, as you have requested, I will flog you. Meanwhile, give me your fingers.”

I raise my skirt a bit higher, and let him see that I am wearing crotchless panties of black silk. Just a few wisps of lace, really, framing and highlighting my creamy thighs. And the dark, moist, hungry gap between.

He begins to play with my labia, watching me all the time to see if I am pleased. I am soaked.
Holding his hand palm up, he slips three fingers into my cunt. There's no resistance. I stifle my moan. His thumb is pressed against my clit, rocking it back and forth. Very good. Oh, yes, very nice indeed.

“Your other hand now. In my arse. And lower your eyes. You may not look at me unless I give you permission.”

He bows his head and leans forward a bit. I slump further in the chair, presenting my hind hole to him. He has large, powerful hands, but he is tentative and gentle, wiggling his way through the ring of muscle guarding that passage. I press my bum against his hand, forcing him inside. I shudder with pleasure at the delicious desecration.

It is difficult to concentrate as he stokes my fires with his nimble fingers. But I am not one to renege on a promise. I reach for the flogger, which I left conveniently at hand.

“Prepare yourself,” I gasp. I bring the leather thongs smartly down on his shoulders, once and again.

At the first slap of the whip, he moans. The second makes him squirm and thrust his fingers deep into me. It is not the pain, I know. In my supine position, I cannot really swing the instrument hard enough to do much damage.

He is intoxicated by his own submission, and by my power. The thongs whistle through the air again and land smartly his hairy back. Another swipe, and yet another. With each one, he works me harder. He has two fingers in my arse now, spread apart so that the rich, dirty sensation is edged with pain.

I cannot control my strokes anymore. I drop the flogger and lean back. “Bring me off,” I order, my voice husky and edged with desperation. He is like a machine, his fingers pumping piston-like inside me. A race car sweeping around the track, my climax approaches. Acceleration. Frenzy.

The Heart of the Deal: Business, Bondage, Discipline and Desire by Lisabet Sarai

Get your copy today!

Kinky Literature

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Thursday, May 12, 2016

Spanking Good Fun (#newrelease #bsdm #giveaway)


I’ve got a new release! Hearts & Handcuffs just hit the virtual shelves yesterday. This 20K collection of short stories is subtitled “Romantic Kink”, which is a pretty accurate description. No heavy messages or crises of trust in this volume, just tales of people who connect via their mutually complementary kinky fantasies.

You’ll find the blurb and an exclusive excerpt below. Hope you like it!

Leave me a comment (don't forget to include your email address!) and I’ll enter you into a drawing for a $5 bookstore gift certificate!

Are you ready for your spanking? You know you want it...

Kink can be life-changing, cathartic, a spiritual experience. Sometimes, though, it’s just plain fun—particularly when your partner is someone special. Hearts & Handcuffs presents the lighter side of BDSM—the naughty joy to be found in exploring your pervy fantasies with someone whose desires complement your own—in six sizzling short stories that showcase Lisabet Sarai’s famously sexy prose.

In “Spank-o-gram”, a grumpy birthday boy receives an unexpected gift from his distant lover. “Wired” shows the extremes a woman will go to in order to get the attention of the man she wants. A neglected and frustrated slave turns the tables on her master in “Domestic Goddess”. In “Spank Me Again, Stranger”, a city gal learns how they celebrate birthdays out in ranch country. A case of mistaken identity leads to a dream come true in “Routine Maintenance”. The title tale “Hearts and Handcuffs” is a Valentine’s Day role playing romp, complete with costumes.

Open the cover, dive into Lisabet Sarai’s imagination—the ultimate aphrodisiac—and savor these gems of romantic kink.

Exclusive Excerpt

“Spank-o-gram for Mr. Sandberg.”

The voice was deep, but definitely female. My curiosity got the better of my caution. I opened the door. A tall woman of uncertain age wearing a gray uniform and carrying a clipboard glared at my tee shirt and gym shorts.

“You are Mr. Sandberg?” Her tone suggested that if I weren't, I'd better have a darn good excuse.

“Um—uh—yeah, that's me.” I was taking her in—all six feet of her. Her hair, a violent red that reminded me of those old troll dolls, was pulled into an old-fashioned twist. Her suit jacket strained with the effort of containing her full breasts. The skirt of her uniform stretched equally tight over her ample hips. Her face was all angles—high cheekbones, prominent nose, square chin—attractive in a ferocious sort of way. She resembled a female Genghis Khan.

“Vell, are you goink to ask me in?” She poked my chest, interrupting my appreciative reverie. “I do not have all night. I have two more after you.” When I still didn’t answer, she swept past me, obviously tired of waiting. As she strode into my living room, I noted the way her curve of her ass distorted her uniform. I'd never seen anyone look less official.

“Two more what?” I followed her, bemused. My cock was hardening inside my shorts. I felt as flustered and uncertain as a teenager.

“I told you. Spank-o-grams.” She set her clipboard down next to my bowl. “Someone ordered one for you. Is your birthday, yes?”

“Ah ... yes...”

“Vell then.” She seated herself on the couch, back straight. Her taut skirt rode up, exposing her meaty thighs. “On my lap. I do not have time to vaste.” I noticed that her eyes were light, a grayish blue the color of Siberian ice. “Unless you vant to lean over a chair...”

“No—um—your lap is fine. But...” I marveled at my daring. “Maybe I could spank you instead?”

“No, no, that is spankee-gram! Much more expensive. Not that this service is cheap, of course. I am the best spanker on the vest coast. Your friend requested me especially. On the Internet.”

'But who...?” I began, though I had some suspicions.

“Anonymous gift.” She cut me short. “Now, get in position. Or do I have to wrestle you down? I vas Commonwealth of Independent States vomen's champion four years in a row...”

I believed her. Would she really force me to take a birthday spanking? I wasn't sure I liked the idea, but my cock did.

“You have ten seconds,” she told me. She arched one eyebrow. “If you're not ready by then, I vill leave.”

“No, no, don't leave!” Awkward and embarrassed by the lump in my shorts, I struggled to arrange myself across her lap. With my chest on the sofa and my pelvis cradled by her warm, well-muscled thighs, my knees didn't quite reach the floor.

Professional that she was, she saw my problem immediately. She tossed a pillow onto the carpet. “Here. Ve don't want any rug burn. No, only your ass should be red.” She laughed at her own pleasantry, a short bark that sent chills up my spine.

Get your copy today!








Don’t forget to leave a comment! $5 is enough to snag this book plus another title!

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Thursday, August 20, 2015

New Release! Transgressive Science Fiction Erotica

I’ve just self-published a new story entitled The Antidote. This is not erotic romance, though it has a HFN ending. But if you enjoy steaming hot, transgressive sex, along with a serious message, you might want to check it out.



What if the government stole your libido? What would you do to get it back?

Sixty years after the Plague, few remember the mass deaths, the riots and the massacres triggered by the sexually-transmitted disease. Still, most people accept the Council’s mysterious libido-suppression technology as necessary to prevent a resurgence of the deadly virus. Monthly procreative sex, government-supported and hormone-enhanced, is enough to satisfy them.

Lena’s different. Though she loves her husband Jeff, she yearns to experience the thrill of forbidden lust, to know what it feels like to couple with a stranger. Rumors speak of an antidote that liberates the libido from the Council’s thrall. Denied from birth, Lena is willing to risk everything—her marriage, her freedom, even her life—for one taste of unbridled desire.

Buy Links




Coming soon to Kobo, iTunes and Barnes and Noble.

Here’s an exclusive excerpt, not available anywhere else. Warning: it’s definitely rated X.

“Like it? Do you like my cock? Do you, baby?” He punctuated each question with a fierce thrust.

I couldn’t answer. I could only moan as he rammed me, again and again. I heard moans from the audience, too, evidence that the show was turning them on. Another climax gathered on the horizon of my consciousness.

A picture of Jeff swam into my mind. Handsome, kind, responsible Jeff, the model husband. The model citizen. He’d never approve. He’d be shocked, maybe disgusted. I pushed away the guilt that threatened to dampen my pleasure. How could I have been satisfied with him? He worked closely with the Council, helping them implement their policies for the good of society. Whereas I was an outlaw, a horny cunt who got off being watched while strangers fucked her.

Bolt suddenly pulled his rod out of me. I clenched around his vanishing bulk. “I’m going to come all over you. To show everyone what a filthy slut you are.”

The audience roared. His spunk showered down on me, a bitter, sticky rain. He smacked his cock against my butt, scattering the last drops of semen over my back. At the same time, he reached forward between my legs and squeezed my clit.

My body dissolved in a sea of mindless pleasure. I’d never known anything like this, not in the most ecstatic, intimate coupling with my husband. A thousand sensations flooded through me, washing away every thought. I was nothing but a whirling, trembling mass of flesh, tossed on currents of dark delight.

Dystopic sci fi with a searing edge...Get your copy today.

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