Showing posts with label mmf erotica. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mmf erotica. Show all posts

Saturday, December 17, 2022

Sexy Saturday: Once Upon a Blizzard Excerpt and Guest Post

 


New Release!

Once Upon a Blizzard:

A Bisexual Holiday Romance

By Lisabet Sarai



Bisexual (MMF) holiday πŸŽ„ erotic romance (5 flames)

πŸ”₯πŸ”₯πŸ”₯πŸ”₯πŸ”₯

14,800 words

Smashwords and Amazon KDP

ISBN (Smashwords): 9781005502300

ASIN: ‎ B0BPMPZ7NG

Hashtags/Keywords

#HolidayRomance #NewEngland #SecondChanceRomance #Bisexual #Blizzard #Voyeurism #HighSchoolSweetheart #SnowedIn #MMRomance

Blurb

No electricity. No water. Plenty of heat.

Suzanne and Gino have a history going back to high school, but for more than a decade the workaholic CEO has been thousands of miles from her New England home town.

A mistletoe kiss at a Christmas party rekindles the old spark and Suzanne finds some things do indeed get better with age. When Gino rescues her from a blizzard, though, she discovers that she's not the only love in his life. Gino shares his bed and his colonial-era farm house with taciturn painter Harris Steele.

Snowed in with two lusty men who truly seem to care, she wonders why she’s so determined to return to her lonely West Coast life. Is there really a chance for a holiday happy ending?

Note: this book was previously published by Totally Entwined with the title Almost Home. It has been revised and re-edited for this edition.

PG Excerpt

The kiss caught her off guard.

One moment Suzanne was standing in the doorway to Helena’s den, scanning the occupants and wondering if she knew anyone at all at this party. The next moment someone twirled her around and fastened a pair of firm lips on hers. Out of instinct or habit, she closed her eyes. The darkness heightened her other senses. Powerful arms circled her body and pulled her against a fuzzy male chest. Her partner’s scent rose around her, a complex mix of soap and musk, evergreen and wood smoke. His tongue teased the seam where her lips met and she let him enter, her self-protective reflexes dulled by his warmth and the glass of merlot she’d downed on her arrival.

His mouth tasted of eggnog and candy canes, appropriately seasonal. He was delicious, in fact—not just his mouth but the quiet confidence of his probing tongue, the sculpted muscle she felt under his sweater, his bold hands wandering across her back to her buttocks. She hadn’t enjoyed a kiss like this in a long time.

She’d felt chilled and tense ever since her plane touched down in frigid Boston but now her muscles began to unknot. He was a miniature sun, melting her, turning her languid and dreamy. She clutched at his solid form and returned his kiss, trading heat for heat. Tropical colors paraded behind her eyelids—fuschia, lime, peach, and aqua—shimmering like the water in her pool back home. She even began to perspire, her long-sleeved velvet dress suddenly too warm for comfort.

He pulled her full hips against his lean ones. A tell-tale lump, wonderfully hard, pressed against her belly. Her panties and tights dampened, too.

Normally she would have resisted but stress and alcohol made her susceptible. She allowed the kiss to lengthen and deepen, sinking into the pure pleasure of it.

A smattering of applause brought her back to awareness. “Whoa there!” hooted one of the guests. “You two want some privacy?”

Suzanne broke away from the man who had ambushed her. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Embarrassment added a sharp edge to her voice.

The dark haired man favored her with a grin. “Mistletoe,” he said, pointing upward. Sure enough, a cluster of green leaves and pale berries dangled from the door frame. He could scarcely contain his laughter.

That laugh. That voice. Something tickled Suzanne’s memory. “Gino!” she exclaimed, finally, chuckling herself. “I can’t believe it! Still acting like we’re in high school.”

“I couldn’t resist, Suzy Q.” The old nickname made her blush. He hadn’t relinquished her hand. “In fact, if you don’t move, I’m very likely to kiss you again.”


Buy Links

Kinky Literature –

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BPMPZ7NG

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BPMPZ7NG

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1263368

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/once-upon-a-blizzard-lisabet-sarai/1142821106

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/once-upon-a-blizzard

Apple Books - https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6445045725

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/65004121-once-upon-a-blizzard


New England Nostalgia

For the past two decades I’ve resided in the tropics of Southeast Asia, but before we moved here, my husband and I lived in a rural town in the Pioneer Valley of western Massachusetts. The region offers fantastic natural beauty, wonderful local food, and a culture of easy-going individualism that suited us well. However, it also requires a certain level of fortitude from its inhabitants. One spends a significant amount of time and effort dealing with the environment: battling undergrowth, pulling weeds, raking leaves, shoveling snow, cleaning gutters, installing or removing storm windows and snow tires, checking the anti-freeze in the radiator and the oil in the furnace tank, storing summer clothing while exhuming winter garb and vice versa, catching and evicting mice and squirrels, and so on. Folks in the Pioneer Valley have to be tough.

New England winters are not as cold as some parts of the U.S., like Wisconsin or Minnesota, but they’re far less predictable. I can remember sixty degree weather on Christmas Eve in some years, temperatures below zero in others. Ice storms are a real menace; one year an ice-laded bough snapped off one of our trees and thoroughly crushed the roof of my car. Then there was the morning I skidded on a snowy road on my way to work and rammed into a tree, crumpling the front end like tin foil. Scary indeed.

No, New England was not for the faint of heart. After the easy life here in Asia, I can’t imagine ever going back.

Nevertheless, I have incredibly vivid memories of New England’s unique charms and I do find myself becoming nostalgic. One of the joys of being a writer that I can channel this nostalgia into my stories.

Once Upon a Blizzard draws heavily from my own experience. The farm house occupied by Gino and Harris is based on the home of our close neighbor (although they didn’t have a hot tub in their back yard). The crispness of the winter air, the clarity of the winter sky, the distant clank of the snow plows when they finally arrive – I’ve been there.

The strangely freeing experience of being snowed in, without electricity, heat or running water is something I remember well. It’s almost like a holiday. Time is suspended. You’re forced to let go. You’ll get dug out, eventually. You’re not that worried, because of course you’re prepared with wood for the fireplace, propane for the stove, candles and flash lights. That’s just how New Englanders are.

My heroine in Once Upon a Blizzard grew up in the Pioneer Valley, but she has been working in Silicon Valley for a decade. In writing this story I was rediscovering, with her, the special magic of New England.

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, mΓ©nage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh






Saturday, July 24, 2021

Sexy Saturday: Monsoon Fever

 


Author: Lisabet Sarai
Genre: Historical multicultural MMF erotic romance

Blurb

When a charismatic Indian lawyer arrives at their remote Assamese tea plantation, he tempts a married couple with forbidden carnal delights.   

In the early years of their marriage, Priscilla and Jonathan eagerly indulged their physical desires, but now that passion has dwindled. Childlessness and the horrors of the Great War have taken a toll on their relationship. Though Priscilla still aches for Jon’s touch, he seems preoccupied with settling his father’s affairs in India, so they can sell the plantation they’ve inherited and return to England.

Anil Kumar served as solicitor to Jon’s father. Arriving unannounced, drenched by a monsoon deluge, he enchants both Priscilla and Jon with his beauty, poise and wisdom. In separate incidents, each of them succumbs to Anil's lustful attentions. Will the illicit cravings excited by the handsome Indian be the final stroke that destroys their marriage? Or the route to saving it?

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.


Excerpt

She sank down into one of the chairs, staring blankly at the card, seeing its owner in her mind’s eye. Anil Kumar was a native, true, but clearly a gentleman. His clothing, even when wet, showed signs of custom tailoring. Perhaps ten years older than she and Jon, he had a regal bearing and a face both comely and intelligent. Heavy eyebrows arched over deep eyes the colour of teakwood. His high forehead was crowned by lush black hair, cut neatly but with a tendency to curl. His long, straight nose and square chin were balanced by a set of lips full enough to belong to a woman. 

A handsome man, yes, but more than the sum of his parts. Even in their brief interaction, Priscilla had sensed something, some energy or life in him that made him doubly appealing. He exuded confidence but without a trace of arrogance. The English had learned the hard way to be wary of the natives. Nevertheless, Priscilla could not help trusting Anil Kumar.

She heard the squeak of the door, looked up and caught her breath. It was Kumar returning. He was dressed all in white, in loose cotton trousers and a gauzy kurta that bared his throat. A gold amulet hung around his neck. His skin seemed darker, his face more exotic. Priscilla was reminded of the statues of Krishna she and Jonathan had seen in Calcutta, on their way to the plantation. Her heartbeat surged. Wet heat gathered between her legs. Before, he had looked like a gentleman. Now, he seemed a god.

“Please forgive my state of undress, Mrs. Archer, but I’m afraid that these are the only garments I have with me that are not soaked through. Your maid has kindly taken my suit for cleaning. As soon as it is dry, I will dress myself more appropriately. Meanwhile, I hope that I do not offend your sensibilities.”

“Not at all,” Priscilla waved off the concern with a smile. He certainly affected her sensibilities, but she was far from offended. “We all have to muddle along during this infernal rainy season. It’s difficult to imagine being completely dry.” 

“Ah, but the monsoon is a blessing from the Mother Goddess. Without it, all India would starve.”

“Yes, I’m sure that you are right. It’s just hard for me to imagine living with this for another three months.”

Anil leaned toward her, his face earnest. Priscilla caught a hint of sandalwood essence wafting from his warm skin. A wave of dizziness swept over her. “It must be difficult for you, being so far from your home. I think, though, that if you will allow yourself to do so, you will come to love India.”

Priscilla struggled to control her physical reactions, “Perhaps. Certainly, the rain is very beautiful. It softens the rough edges and makes everything seem dreamlike, insubstantial. Sometimes you can see the hills. Sometimes it’s as though they are not there.” 

“Yes, exactly.”  His eyes closed for a moment, as though he were gazing at something unseen. His jet-black lashes were as lush as a woman’s. “The monsoon reveals the truth, that all is Maya, illusion. Our bodies, this world, pleasure and pain, it is all a dream of the gods.”


Buy Links

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0994WZP4B

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0994WZP4B

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1093764

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/monsoon-fever-lisabet-sarai/1139827649?ean=2940164960315

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/monsoon-fever-a-multicultural-romance

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/58554176-monsoon-fever



About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, mΓ©nage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, BookBub, BingeBooks and Twitter. 

Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh