Sunday, February 27, 2022

Lizzie Borden Zombie Hunter Book Tour and Giveaway


Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter

Lizzie Borden Horror Book 1

by C.A. Verstraete

Genre: Horror

Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter - Now Available in Audio!

Lizzie Borden took an axe, and gave her father 40 whacks, but why?

Even if it wasn’t actually 40 hits, did she have a reason to do it? What if her father had turned into…. a zombie?!

Every family has its secrets.

One hot August morning in 1892, Lizzie Borden picked up an axe and murdered her father and stepmother. Newspapers claim she did it for the oldest of reasons: family conflicts, jealousy, and greed. But what if her parents were already dead? What if Lizzie slaughtered them because they’d become...zombies? 

Thrust into a horrific world where the walking dead are part of a shocking conspiracy to infect not only Fall River, Massachusetts but also the world beyond, Lizzie battles to protect her sister, Emma, and her hometown from nightmarish ghouls and the evil forces controlling them.

**In celebration of the audiobook's release, get the ebook on sale for only $1.99 now! **

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Christine (C.A.) Verstraete enjoys putting a little "scare" in her writing. She follows the murder trial and offers a twist on the infamous 1892 Borden murders in her book, Lizzie Borden, Zombie Hunter. She also looks at the murders from the viewpoint of Lizzie's doctor in her latest, The Haunting of Dr. Bowen. Other books include a young adult novel, GIRL Z: My Life as a Teenage Zombie, and books on dollhouse collecting and crafting, plus a children's mystery and book series.

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Saturday, February 26, 2022

The Elven Spymaster's Thief Excerpt and Giveaway


The Elven Spymaster's Thief

Elves of Eldarlan Book 1

by Elisa Rae

Genre: Fantasy Romance 

In a world full of elves, woodwose, gargoyles, and brownies among others, humans can’t help crossing paths with all of the magical species. Well, everyone except Avril. She manages to avoid all elves. Then one day, her master orders her to steal a dagger from the very elf she wishes to evade most, the elven spymaster of Eldarlan. Bound by her indenture, she has no choice but to obey. She plans a swift sneak and grab mission, but things go awry.

Illeron knows more than any elf should. The gathering, analyzing, and disseminating of information consumes his life to the point his brother suggests he needs a distraction. So, when a human woman breaks into his study to steal his dagger, he seizes the opportunity and offers her a bargain she can’t refuse. And a fate he never imagined.

The Elven Spymaster’s Thief is a light, fantasy romance novella full of banter, flirting, and fun romantic moments. It features an opposites-attract romance between a human girl and a smoldering elf lord with a bit of a culture clash thrown in for fun.

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The moment my eyes fell on the dagger, I knew something was very wrong. The thing was ugly, roughly made, and hardly even functional. Why did my master send me into the den of the greatest mastermind in Eldarlan to steal a child’s toy? I squinted at it. It was not even an enchanted toy.

Still, I had my orders. My life and livelihood depended on fulfilling this mission. Grimore wouldn’t tolerate anything less than absolute success. Letting out the smallest of silent sighs, I approached the table. I ascertained that it hadn’t been boobytrapped either magically or otherwise using all of my observation skills.

Well, here I go, I thought. I reached across the table and lifted the small dagger from its display.

Are you sure you want that one?”

I jumped. My heart threatened to leap from my chest. For one frantic moment, I feared I would die from fright. I whirled toward the voice. Anger replaced panic in an instant. “Are you trying to kill me?”

No.” He was lean, but there was a substance to his frame, unlike most elves I had seen from afar. Muscle across the chest and shoulders gave his long lines a dangerous power that had nothing to do with magic. His piercing green eyes assessed me with a sharpness that made me want to flinch away. Unlike most of his kind, he had cropped his brown hair instead of letting it flow down his back. The tapered curls did nothing to hide the pointed tips of his ears. His clothing also had a simpler cut, but the fabric was no less fine. It hung in elegant lines, accentuating his feline-like movements as he stalked across the hardwood floor. “I was merely curious.”

Whether or not you could shock my heart into stopping?” I backed up until my hips hit the edge of the table behind me. I still clutched the sheathed dagger to my chest. After all this, I had no intention of leaving without it.

Human hearts are fragile, but I have never known one as young as yours to stop due to shock. Blade, curse, poison, draining, or ripping it from the chest, yes. Those can kill, but fright, no.” He held out his elegant hand. “Give me the blade.”

No.” Unnerved by how unfailingly he stared into my eyes despite my bespelled cloak and the mask obscuring my features.

I could take it by force.”

You will lose more than you gain in the process.”

His impassive features moved. An eyebrow rose slightly as though intrigued. “I am stronger than I look.”

I snorted. “So am I.” I slid my favorite blade from its hiding place without letting go of the useless one I was trying to steal. There was no way this thug of Whispier’s was going to relieve me of my prize, elf or not.

In an instant, before I could react, a long thin stiletto flicked into his fingers, and the cool edge of the blade rested against my throat. “I am faster.”

That may be,” I admitted.

A twitch near his eye broke through his stoic mask. “But?”

I leaned slightly back from his blade, giving me the ability to swallow. His eyes narrowed as he watched the movement of my throat. I used the distraction wisely.

Speed isn’t everything.” I pressed the edge of my deadly iron-laced blade to his gut, perfectly positioned to drive it straight up into his stomach at the slightest provocation.

To my surprise, the corner of his mouth twitched, and he stepped closer. “I doubt you will have time to follow through on that threat. A quick flick of my wrist, and you will be dead in seconds.”

I stared into the mysterious depths of his enigmatic spring green eyes. He was close enough that I could see the blue flecks near his pupil and the ring of silver around the iris’ outer edge. I could also feel him. His deep, even breaths fluttered against the mask, bringing the scents of trees, fresh air, and the promise of something inexplicable. A tingle of wild magic different from the comfortable brownie charms on my cloak invaded my head. A sleep spell! It whispered sweetly of warmth and comfort, tempting me to relax.

I closed my eyes. Abruptly the sensation ceased. I jabbed my knife into his gut, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to get him to back up ever so slightly.

Your death will be more painful,” I growled as I opened my eyes to glare at him. The spell was still there, trying to invade my head again. However, now that I was aware of it, I could resist it.

I will heal.” Something changed in his eyes.

But you will suffer while you heal.” I frowned. What had changed in his eyes? Laughter? “You are laughing at me!” I shoved at his chest hard. He complied, but the way he did it—moving long enough after I pushed—made it clear he was doing it because he wished, not because I forced him to.

He tossed the blade in his hand. It disappeared into the air. The magic was so neat and tidy that the blade blinked out without a sound, flash of light, or puff of air. It was hard not to gape in wonder at the trick. And he knew it. His mouth quirked briefly. “You will stay.”

I beg your pardon?” I glared at him. “I am going to take this and leave.”

You will find that impossible.” He turned his back on me, clearly not caring in the least that I was still armed. Prowling over to the large desk before the great windows opposite the door I had entered, he started flipping through papers. “What is your name?”

I don’t see how that has anything to do with the matter.” I knew about the tricks the elves and other fae played once they knew a person’s name. There was no way he was getting mine.

Family name then, paranoid one.”

Soleil,” I reluctantly offered.

Ah, I thought so.” He straightened, a strange pen glowing in his hand. “You have a brother.”


He is in my service.”

He contracted himself into Whispier’s service.” I emphasized the name. Why would I deal with an underling when it was Whispier I wished to hurt for taking Solon from me? “I don’t know who you are.”

This time his eyes lightened. “Do you want to free him?”

I pressed my lips together to suppress the urge to scream at him. I glared at him instead. “Why do you ask?”

That is a yes then.” He plucked a document from the air. The glowing edges gleamed despite the dimness of the room. “What if I offer you a bargain? Your brother’s freedom for your companionship.”


Friendship, conversation, company—nothing untoward or physical beyond being in the same room frequently.”

Only Whispier has that power,” I pointed out.

He tilted his head slightly to the side. “I am Whispier. The fact you haven’t figured that out yet doesn’t speak well of your intelligence.”

In that case, I might kill you.”

His mouth did the funny little quirk again. “You might find me hard to kill.”

I eyed him from beneath raised eyebrows. “Is that a challenge?”

You won’t be able to kill me. The bond will prevent you from attacking my person.”

What about maiming? Poisoning? Papercuts?”

His eyes turned silvery. “Papercuts aren’t lethal.”

I just grinned at him.

Besides, I heal quickly.”

How about cuts from iron-edged paper?”

That is a myth, you know.” He turned his attention to the glowing edged document. “Iron only gives us a stomachache.”

I snorted. “Maybe I will just make it so you wish to die.”

A soft sigh of air whispered through the room, and suddenly there was a third presence. The shadow elf from earlier materialized next to Whispier. What had Whispier called him—Casimir? He no longer appeared to be a solid black shadow. Like Whispier, he was tall, lean, and dangerous. Unlike the mastermind, his skin was a dusky brown. His pale green eyes, almost precisely the same shade as Whispier’s, flicked from side to side, assessing the two of us.

Are you quite finished?” he asked the mastermind.

Almost.” With a flick of his slender fingers, he flipped the document to face me. “Our agreement. Your friendship in exchange for your brother’s freedom from my service. Your every need will be provided for—food, clothing, housing—in exchange, you will attend me here in my study or other public rooms in the palace.”

And do what?” I demanded. It sounded too good to be true.

He shrugged. “Talk, eat, ignore me, whatever you wish.”

Annoy you?”

He waved the paper impatiently. “Should you wish. Do we have a deal?”

And Solon is free?”

The moment you sign this.” He offered the glowing pen.

What about my current master? It isn’t as though I am a free woman.”

What is your master’s name?”


His eyes flared silver and he tilted his head to the side. “Interesting. And the nature of your contract is?”

Thievery in exchange for room, board, and protection.”

Protection from what?” His impassive features tightened. “Do you have a price on your head?”

Not that I know of. He keeps me safe from those who would prey on a lone woman.”

I can provide that.”

I snorted softly. “And who will protect me from you?”

The agreement will. I bound it into the clauses that I cannot touch you with the intent to hurt or take advantage. The spell will hold me to it.”

I had heard of spells reading the intents of a person’s actions so that made sense. Food, shelter, protection, and all I had to do in exchange was keep a man company. It sounded almost too good to be true. But then—

I took the paper and read the terms. Solon would be free. I signed the document in glimmering silver ink that appeared to absorb into the paper as I wrote. With the last stroke of my name, I felt the bond take hold with a tingling jolt of magic. The paper disappeared as abruptly as it appeared. Whispier muttered something in Elvish. The shadow elf rolled his eyes and disappeared in a soundless rush of displaced air.

A reader of fairytales and folklore, Elisa Rae loves a happy ending. Noblebright characters, dastardly villains, and chemistry between characters delight her. When she isn’t writing, she loves to watch superhero movies and literary dramas.

Elisa Rae is the pen name of Rachel Rossano.

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Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Blue Fire Excerpt and Guest Post


Blue Fire

A Victoria Emerson Thriller Book 2

by John Gilstrap

Genre: Thriller, Suspense

John Gilstrap, the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Jonathan Grave novels, continues his acclaimed Victoria Emerson thriller series with Blue Fire.  In the wake of a global conflict that has devastated America, one woman must lead—and protect—a community of survivors determined to rebuild all they have lost . . .
They call it Hell Day—a world war that lasted less than twenty-four hours. Nations unleashed weapons that destroyed more than a century’s worth of technology. Electrical grids cannot generate power. Communications and computers cannot run. And the remnants of the U. S. government cannot be depended upon. Those who survived must live as their ancestors did, off a land ruled by the whims of nature.    
One-time congressional representative Victoria Emerson has become the new leader of the small town of Ortho, West Virginia. She has been struggling to provide food and shelter for the town’s inhabitants, while coping with desperate refugees. An autumn morning’s calm is shattered when her teenage son sounds the alarm with the cry “Blue Fire”—the code phrase for imminent danger.
A band of National Guardsmen intends to take Ortho and its resources for themselves. They have enough soldiers and firepower to eliminate anyone who dares to stop them. But Victoria swore an oath to defend and protect her people, and she isn’t about to surrender. It’s time to tap into the traditional American values of courage, ingenuity, and determination – and fight fire with fire.

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Crimson Phoenix

A Victoria Emerson Thriller Book 1

Brad Taylor meets The Stand in a riveting novel of suspense kicking off a brand new series perfect for fans of the page-turning novels of A.G. Riddle, Mark Greaney, and Matthew Mather.
One of the most singular and compelling heroines to come along in years.”
—Jeffery Deaver, New York Times bestselling author
Snaps with action from the very first page.”
—Marc Cameron, New York Times bestselling author of Stone Cross and of Tom Clancy’s Code of Honor 

From John Gilstrap, the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Jonathan Grave novels, comes Crimson Phoenix—first in the new Victoria Emerson Thriller series.  With America brought to the brink of destruction, one woman becomes the last hope of a nation and its people . . .
Victoria Emerson is a congressional member of the U. S. House of Representatives for the state of West Virginia. Her aspirations have always been to help her community and to avoid the ambitious power plays of her peers in Washington D. C. Then Major Joseph McCrea appears on her doorstep and uses the code phrase Crimson Phoenix, meaning this is not a drill. The United States is on the verge of nuclear war. Victoria must accompany McCrea to a secure bunker. She cannot bring her family.
A single mother, Victoria refuses to abandon her three teenage sons. Denied entry to the bunker, they nonetheless survive the nuclear onslaught that devastates the country. The land is nearly uninhabitable. Electronics have been rendered useless. Food is scarce. Millions of scared and ailing people await aid from a government that is unable to regroup, much less organize a rescue from the chaos.
Victoria devotes herself to reestablishing order—only to encounter the harsh realities required of a leader dealing with desperate people . . .
Just the thing for readers who feel oppressed by the pandemic lockdown.”
Kirkus Reviews

A gripping page-turner.”
—Taylor Stevens, New York Times bestselling author
An explosive story that keeps your mind churning and pulse racing . . . Don't miss this powerful new series from a master thriller writer.”
—Jamie Freveletti, international bestselling and award-winning author


Chapter One

Victoria Emerson heard the urgency in the tone before she understood the words. She pivoted toward the back door as she rose from the table that she’d transformed into a makeshift desk in what used to be a diner called Maggie’s Place. Since the days immediately following the war, Maggie’s had served as an ersatz city hall. Her knees scooted her chair across the wooden floor as she stood.

“What on earth is that?” asked Ellie Stewart. They’d been meeting about the status of the clothing bank now that winter was clearly in the air.

“Whatever it is, it sounds important.” Victoria opened the door.

A horse approached at a full gallop. Its rider, her fourteen-year old son Luke, hung tight to the saddle horn with his left hand while he slapped the reins with his right. Never setting a horse until a few weeks ago, he’d taken to it well, but he was pushing the beast way too hard on the asphalt roadway.

“Blue fire!” he yelled. “Coming down the river! Blue fire! Coming down the river!”

Victoria’s heart skipped a beat and then doubled its rate.

“Is he shouting blue fire?” Ellie asked, leaping to her feet. Everyone understood Blue fire to be the code phrase for the highest level of alert. It meant imminent danger from deadly forces, whether man-made or from natural causes.

Victoria didn’t answer. Instead, she reached back inside the door and grabbed the M4 rifle that was never more than a few feet away from her. It was a sad fact about feral, terrified humans that violence came more instinctively than kindness. That was a lesson hard-learned in the first days after the war.

Slinging the rifle over her shoulder, she adjusted the pistol on her hip to make room for the stock, and stepped the rest of the way outside. She waved, trying to get Luke’s attention, but he was focused on spreading the word on imminent peril. She shivered against the chill of the autumn air and jogged around the side of the building to jog toward the intersection of [X & Y] streets, the spot that had evolved by silent consensus to be the social and governmental center here in Ortho, West Virginia.

This unincorporated little burgh had never had its own town government, instead taking leadership from a county whose real leaders had evaporated, either killed in the attacks and their aftermath, or just choosing to go away. Those who remained had survived the unspeakable destruction of Hell Day—the eight-hour conflict that left the world in ruins—but all the technology and conveniences of the 21st century were gone. Even the previous century was beyond reach. Electricity was a memory, and without it little else worked. Most of the homes that existed on Hell Day had propane in the tanks buried in their backyards, and as long as pressure remained, the gas could flow. But the clock was clicking down on that, too.

Equipment that used microcircuitry or was even moderately computerized had been transformed by electromagnetic pulse into paperweights and doorstops. A few ancient cars still worked, but without electricity to power pumps, it was a daunting challenge to raise gasoline from underground tanks where it languished unused.

As she hurried toward the square, Victoria looked across the street and caught the eye of Army Major Joe McCrea, who returned a look of dread. He had not made the progress he’d been hoping for on the construction of barricades to provide some level of protection from miscreants and marauders. The town still reeled from the attack from the Grubbs gang just a few weeks before.

Rifle in hand, McCrea jogged to intersect Victoria’s path to the square. She slowed, but only slightly.

“This better not be a mistake,” McCrea said, making a broad gesture to the dozens of people who were responding to the call and flooding toward the square. “That would be a bad way to start.”

The emergency response protocol was new to everyone. Most agreed that a swift response was key to mitigating any emergency, and they’d voted overwhelmingly to arm themselves while outside their homes. Those with access to long guns—in this part of the world, that meant just about everyone—agreed to keep that heavier firepower close at all times.

McCrea’s biggest fear about the new alarm protocol, which he’d voiced only to Victoria, was overreaction and alarm fatigue. People had different opinions of what emergencies looked like, and if miscalculations resulted in a series of false alarms, especially in the early days, the system would quickly fall apart.

The fact that Luke Emerson was the first Paul Revere to trigger the alert protocol made it even more important that the emergency be real. Victoria had risen to leadership in Ortho by default rather than by election, and while her support remained strong among the original residents of the town, the daily flood of newcomers placing demands on the community’s already limited resources were forcing her to make decisions that were increasingly unpopular.

John Gilstrap is the New York Times bestselling author of award-winning action novels including the Jonathan Grave Thrillers and the Victoria Emerson Thrillers. A master of action-driven suspense, his books have been translated into more than 20 languages. He is the recipient of an International Thriller Writers’ Award for Against All Enemies, the ALA Alex Award for Nathan’s Run, and a two-time ITW Award finalist. A nationally recognized weaponry and explosives safety expert as well as a National Shooting Sports Foundation member, John Gilstrap frequently speaks at conferences, events, clubs, youth programs, and military bases. He is a former firefighter and EMT with a master’s degree in safety from the University of Southern California and a bachelor’s degree in history from the College of William and Mary in Virginia. John lives in Fairfax, Virginia.

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Tuesday, February 22, 2022

The Gazillionaire and the Virgin


The Gazillionaire and the Virgin

By Lisabet Sarai

Contemporary BDSM erotic romance (Five flames)

Second edition, approximately 64,000 words, 240 pages

HEA ending


ISBN: 9781005746773

#bdsm #eroticromance #bondage #discipline #dominance #submission #sextoys #artificialintelligence #virtualworlds #SiliconValley #metaverse #AI #AspergersSyndrome #OCD

Tag Line

Trust cant be boughtit has to be earned.


She’s the billionaire. He’s the virgin. Still, he knows how to make her melt.

When Silicon Valley entrepreneur Rachel Zelinsky meets reclusive genius Theo Moore, she has a single objective —a deal to incorporate his AI software into her company’s popular virtual world. She finds Theo to be arrogant, sensitive and socially awkward, but his aura of power speaks to her carefully-hidden submissive side. Confused and aroused, she falls under his geeky spell.

Theo Moore cant be bought. His past battles with poverty make him deeply suspicious of the billionaire CEO, though Rachel’s voluptuous curves and brilliant mind embody his ultimate fantasy. Too bad his knowledge about sex derives from extensive research and a stash of kinky porn rather than real-world experience.

Rachel may be Theos first lover, but Theo is her first true Master. One word from him, one touch, and she surrenders to bliss. It seems that love and complementary desire may harmonize their differing values, until Rachels unwitting violation of Theos trust tears them apart.

Newly edited edition! Includes a steamy bonus Valentine’s story featuring Rachel and Theo!

Excerpt (Theo)

Shes not what I expected. Shes soft and full, not lean and angular like most Californians. None of the gym-toned muscles everyone sports here in the land of sunshine. And shes young, much younger than someone so filthy rich has any right to be. Her designer watch must have cost more than two months of my professors salary. On the other hand, I can hardly complain about her wealth, can I, since my pet project is the beneficiary of her largesse?

Hunkering down in the leather-upholstered back seat of her disgustingly opulent vehicle, I try to calm myself. Im sweating like a pig, and my muscles are in knots. I gulp down orange juice from the bar Id ridiculed and focus on my breathing the way Dr. Hopkins has taught me. I force myself not to count the telephone poles whizzing by. I know that will only make it worse.

When I pat my pocket, I cant help grinning a bit. Two hundred fifty thousand! We can equip a new mobile development lab and hire two trainers for a year. Or take our outreach into junior high schools. Or even expand to some of the Rust Belt cities where the recession has hit particularly hard...

No, this wouldnt be enough for that. But Dr. ZelinskyRachelhad indicated there might be more.

Rachel. Bringing up the search engine on my phone, I type in her name. I should have done this before the meeting, of course, but I was much too nervous. Up until the moment her limousine pulled up in front of my building, I still thought I might back out.

The screen fills with images and links. Theres even a Wikipedia article. I flip through the text, digesting the basics. Born in Brooklyn. An MBA from Harvard and a PhDin physics!from MIT. Looking Glass is her third company. She sold the first to IBM and the second to Microsoft.

A real high roller. And MirrorWorld is a huge hitthe main article on the virtual environment runs pages and pages. Since the Looking Glass IPO almost two years ago, the company stock has increased in value by an unbelievable 224%.

She can afford a quarter of a million for charity. For her, thats petty change.

By the time we arrive back at my complex, Im pretty much back to normal. At least what counts as normal for me. I nod at the uniformed driver who opens the door for me, trying to pretend I do this every day. The Vietnamese gardener is spreading new mulch on the flower beds in front of my building. Averting my eyes and ignoring his greetingafter all, I can barely understand his EnglishI hustle up the wooden steps to my second floor condo.

Its quiet and cool inside. The soft hiss of the air conditioning soothes me. I flip on the stereo, something by Brahms, turn the volume down low, then stretch out on my bed, fully clothed.

I made it.

The money is mine, free and clear. Ill ask my sister to deposit it tomorrow. I dont need to see Rachel Zelinsky again.

I can’t stop thinking about her, though. I recall one of the pictures from the web article, a black and white photo of a skinny teenager with a mop of curls, standing in front of some science fair project. She didn’t have those curves yet. No, but I recognize the expression, that determined set of her mouth and those laser-sharp eyes under the dark eyebrows. She was going to win—there was no question.


Lisabet Sarai writes the most beautiful erotic prose. Her stories tease at the senses and transport you to a world of sexual pleasure.~ Desiree Holt, queen of BDSM erotic romance and author of Forward Pass

"Ive always been a fanLisabet Sarai's erotic fiction is certain to captivate, dominate, and leave readers begging for more." ~ Alison Tyler, best-selling author of erotic BDSM memoirs Dark Secret Love and Even Deeper.

Review Quotes

...sweet and romantic but steamy and sexy at the same time. .... I adored it!

~ Crazie Bettie, Amazon US

This book is one of the top five hottest books I have read. These were two of my most favorite lovers. I was wrung out when I finished it but what a delight!~ Sheila, Amazon US

I was completely drawn into this relationship, and the relationship IS the story. The connection Rachel and Theo build between them is vividly portrayed, beautiful and well-written, poignant in some ways and hot enough to melt the pages in others. Which is exactly what I want in erotic novels.~ Lola White, Goodreads

"Do I recommend this one? Oh hell yeah. Realistic D/s with hot as hell kinky sex? Yes, please!" ~ Kayla Lords,

Buy Links (Ebook)

Special Valentine’s Price: Ebook only 99 cents until the end of February!

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About Lisabet

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Most of her novels include some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse. Her personal experience has taught her the joy to be found in a Master’s bonds. She tries to make that joy real for her readers.

Connect with Lisabet!

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