Category: Book Topics

Here you’ll learn about a particular book or find a discussion about books and various genre.

New from Lisabet Sarai! By Moonlight

I’ll come for you by moonlight – though Hell should bar the way
In her eighteen years on earth, Bess has never traveled more than twenty miles from her Devonshire village. The raven-haired innkeeper’s daughter has little time to dream of adventure as she labors from dawn to dusk to keep her abusive father satisfied.
Then, at the weekly market in Tavistock town, she meets a handsome dandy who claims her with a single stolen kiss. When the gallant gentleman makes a midnight visit to the inn, Bess learns that her new lover is none other than Kit Latour, a notorious French highwayman who has been boldly relieving the local nobility of their valuables. Well-aware of the risk she’s taking, Bess still offers herself to the seductive outlaw. Even Kit’s darkest secrets cannot quench the flames of her love.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1183-by-moonlight-/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C99C59RY

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C99C59RY

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1413596

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/by-moonlight-lisabet-sarai/1143711659?ean=2940166073495

Kobo  – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/by-moonlight-8

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6450718058

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/180643788-by-moonlight

Add on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/by-moonlight-by-lisabet-sarai

Excerpt:

She must have drowsed, despite her determination to remain on guard. She heard no hoof beats clattering in the inn yard, no tapping on the barred shutters, only a soft whistle under her window that had her instantly alert.

She leaned out, her hair spilling over the casement. “Kit!” she cried, heedless of anyone hearing. “You’ve come at last.”

“Well met, my fair lady.” The lithe figure below gave a little bow. “Did you doubt me?”

“No doubt, my love, only fear. Your fame has spread wide. There be many who’d delight in spilling your blood.”

“Even more after tonight, I’ll wager. I’ve had rich takings along the high road. A fat, dyspeptic earl and his broomstick wife contributed generously to my cause.”

“Lord Haverstock? Oh Kit, he has the King’s ear.” She shrank back into the shadows of her bedroom, then peered anxiously into the distance. She almost expected to see His Majesty’s troops mustering on the country lane. “Why must you take such risks?”

Kit chuckled. “Without risk, life wouldn’t be worth living.” The bandit grasped the gnarled ivy vines that clung to the old inn and clambered up to the second floor. In moments, Bess was face to face with her beloved.

What was her Kit thinking, to ride in such finery against the wealthy and powerful? The coat was burgundy velvet, worn over a pure white linen shirt with a ruffle of lace at the throat. Supple doe-skin boots rose half-way up those strong thighs. The jeweled hilt of a dagger glittered at Kit’s waist. The hungry light in the bandit’s eyes burned brighter still.

“Oh, Bess, how I’ve missed you!”  Kit seized her, crushing her against the velvet, and captured her mouth. Bess pressed her soft body against her lover’s harder form, savoring the heady mixture of familiar comfort and forbidden arousal she always felt in Kit’s arms. A brazen tongue ravaged her mouth while knowing hands slipped under her shift to palm her buttocks and pull her closer still.

“Take this off, girl, before I rip it from your limbs,” Kit gasped, tugging at the fabric that hid her flesh. “I cannot wait another instant.”

Not so long ago she’d been a bashful virgin, but there was no shyness in her now. She pulled the garment over her head and tossed it onto the chair, shaking her long hair free.  Moonlight from the window made her pale skin glow. Kit’s eyes roamed over her nakedness. She’d never felt so beautiful, or so needy.

Introductory Essays

Changing the Ending

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
~ The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43187/the-highwayman

My latest release, By Moonlight, was inspired by the poem above. This tale of tragic love and sacrifice has been a favorite of mine since I was in high school (though it does not seem to be that widely known – none of the members of my critique group were aware of it). As a teen, I though the poem was devastatingly romantic. Of course, this was before I started writing romance. I didn’t realize that to qualify as Romance with a capital R, a story needed a happy ending.

When I decided to write my own version of Noyes’ story, I knew I had to change the ending. It just wouldn’t do to have Bess and her bandit beloved perish as they do in the poem – even if they do live on as ghosts. In fact, I wanted to play with the conflict in the original, to show Bess ultimately getting the better of the men who mock her and condemn her to death.

By Moonlight deliberately borrows the atmosphere, and indeed some of the dialogue, from the Noyes poem. The first two chapters follow the source quite closely. I tried to capture the sense of danger, the terrible risk Bess takes in accepting a wanted outlaw as her partner. Then the story veers off into unexplored territory – as indeed it would have to if the lovers are to have the HEA they deserve.

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai

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, ménage, BDSM, LGBTQ, 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, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Charity Sunday: Big Dog Ranch Rescue

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

This month, I’d like to highlight Big Dog Ranch Rescue, Their mission: “Big Dog Ranch Rescue was founded in 2008; since then, we have saved the lives of more than 50,000 dogs. Our mission is to save 5,000 dogs every year, to heal and place them with loving families and to educate people about the proper care for dogs and the importance of spaying and neutering.” The work now includes rescuing dogs from the US-Mexico border, where dogs have been abandoned by migrants entering the country. Migrants cross the border and get on buses to go throughout the U.S., leaving their dogs to fend for themselves. BDRR has stepped in, at the behest of the National Guard, to help save the animals and help them find homes with loving families. Please help me by leaving a comment, and I will donate to this worthy group. Note: BDRR is rated four stars on Charity Navigator.

In Regan (Book 1 of the historical, ménage romance series The Sisters O’Ryan by Jenna Stewart), Seth doesn’t have a dog, but he does have a horse for a constant companion.

Blurb:
Davey and Regan O’Ryan Stone bought an Oregon farm sight unseen, hungering for adventure. Davey regretted the impulse far past the point of no return, and then he died. Now, unskilled and alone on her farm, Regan fears going home a failure—as a daughter, a wife, and a farmer. With money quickly running out, she gladly accepts the offer of help from Seth Pratt, an acquaintance from the wagon train, and his friend Haywood Lawrence.

One-armed Seth seeks work at the remote farm at the end of an Oregon trail with low expectations. When he finds Regan, alone and widowed, he tamps down desire. She deserves better than a handicapped man searching for his soul. She’s worthy of someone like his Shakespeare-spouting best friend, Hay. Nothing could have prepared Seth for Regan’s simple solution—that both men stay. On the farm and in her bed.

Buy link:
Amazon US

Excerpt:
“Do you know this lady, Seth?” The second man split his gaze between his companion and Regan.

Suddenly heat flamed on Regan’s cheeks. Why should he have noticed her, though he certainly stood clear in her mind. Indeed, Seth Pratt had made quite an impression on all the single ladies in their wagon train. Once, despite her married status at the time they shared the trek west, he made an embarrassing appearance in her dream, too, much to her shame. Her imagined image of his naked body joined to hers had pleased her so much, she banished him from her thoughts afterwards.

She glanced at his companion, hating that he should witness her complete ignominy.

“I apologize for not recognizing you, Mrs. Stone,” Seth said. His gaze raked the yard again. “Should I speak to your husband about the job?”

“Mrs. Stone?” the other man said. Seth shot him a silencing look.

“My husband passed away just west of Cheyenne.” Seth had left the train in western Nebraska, headed, or so she heard through gossip, for the Dakota Black Hill country. At the time, that had been a relief. She thought never to see him again, never to be tempted to dream of him again.

“My condolences,” he said softly. She acknowledged his comment with a nod. “Was the man in Cold Springs correct, then? Are you really lookin’ for help?” He asked the question, but his expression started to close down as though knowing before she answered that there would be nothing for him here.

“There is a problem, Mr. Pratt.”

“My arm. I understand.” He fit his hat back on his head and tipped it at her before tapping the flanks of his horse with his heels and giving the reins a tug.

The second man said, “Hold on, there,” at the same time she cried out, “No!”

He stopped and waited.

“No, Mr. Pratt,” she said. “The problem is not your arm. I assume you would not apply for the position of farmhand if you felt you were not equal to the task.” His eyes lit with interest, and she continued. “The problem is the distance from town, and I’m alone here. I fear it’s too far to travel back and forth each day. Indeed, had I known my property was this far removed from any town, I’m sure I would have faltered in my determination to continue west.”

Seth’s brows wrinkled. “Are you safe out here alone?”

She shrugged. “I feel perfectly so.”

He didn’t seem to like her answer much, but he didn’t argue. “I see.” He sat quietly. “Ma’am, I’ll be honest with you. I need a job. I didn’t have much stake when I lit out for these parts, and I have next to nothin’ now. Folks aren’t anxious to hire a one-armed man, as you might guess. If you give me a chance, I won’t trouble you for nothin’, at least until the snow flies, and then I would need only a roof. I can bed down in the barn.”

“There are accommodations. But Mr. Barker should have explained that I am interested in hiring a man and wife, so that proprieties would be maintained.”

“Why the hell did…Begging your pardon, Mrs. Stone,” the second man said, “but I wonder why the man in town sent us out here, then.”

“Us?” Regan looked more closely at the man, so different in dress from Seth. So different in every way. His clothing spoke of money, though he wore a simple white shirt and vest under the jacket. Obvious hand tooling on his horse’s saddle and the burled-wood rifle butt protruding from a pouch on the saddle screamed taste and the money to afford it.

He smiled once more, showing good teeth and deep dimples. “Forgive me. I’m Haywood Lawrence, late of Charlotte, North Carolina, traveling the West with this disreputable reprobate. That is, until he decided he wanted to become a farmer instead of a seeker of fortunes.”

She smiled. “We have something in common, Mr. Lawrence. I hail from Asheville.”

Smoothly he swung his leg over the horse and strode to her. “‘Such stuff as dreams are made on.’” He took her hand and kissed it.

Regan blinked in surprise but couldn’t keep a smile from her face. “Asheville is the stuff dreams are made on, Mr. Lawrence?”

“Not the city, Mrs. Stone, its lovely citizens.”

“I have it,” Seth said in a quiet tone.

Startled because she had forgotten momentarily that Seth was there, she yanked back her hand and looked up.

“The man in town must have heard me tell Koda that I bought a penny candy for Francis. He musta thought I meant a woman.”

“Who is Koda?” asked Regan. Holy Mother! As surprised as she was to see Seth again, Haywood Lawrence took her breath away. Adding a third man to the mix would surely be too much.

Haywood sighed. “It’s his horse, I’m afraid. Our friend Seth talks to the horse more than he does to people.”

“He don’t quote Shakespeare day and night,” Seth grumbled.

“Well then, who is Francis?”

“That would be me,” Haywood said, with a glare at Seth. “Though no one calls me that who doesn’t want a fight.” Seth raised his brow and shrugged. Haywood turned back to Regan. “I was christened Francis Haywood Lawrence, but I much prefer Haywood to my first name. Or rather, Hay, which I hope you will call me.”

“Oh, I…uh.”

Seth stared at Hay. “I thought you were catchin’ a boat downriver to the coast. Somethin’ about lumber?”

Hay’s gaze didn’t waver from Regan. “Perhaps not. Never fear, my friend,” he tossed over his shoulder to Seth. “‘Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t.’”

Seth said something impossible for Regan to decipher.

She forced her gaze from Hay. “I’m sorry the position won’t work out, Mr. Pratt,” she told Seth. “However, it’s too late for you to go back to town tonight. Why don’t you stay and ride back tomorrow?”

“It wouldn’t be right. I was so wrapped up in my own troubles that I didn’t stop to think.” For the first time, worry clouded Seth’s startling blue eyes. “I wouldn’t want to do anything that might cause you or your reputation harm, Mrs. Stone.”

“Who will know if you camped out or slept in comfort, Mr. Pratt?” Regan smiled. “My parents raised me to be a proper young lady. But when I lay in my safe, snug bed in my father’s home, I imagined how it would feel to be wild and carefree. To do something scandalous. You would be fulfilling a childhood dream if you stayed for the night.” Holy mother of God! Had she really said that? How would he take her words?

Author Dee S. Knight:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! On the last Sunday of the month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Sign up for her newsletter for exclusive access to free novellas, poetry, and stuff.

Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

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At last! The Master’s Mark–new from Lisabet Sarai

Book 3 in The Toymakers Guild. Available for pre-order now. Launch date January 13, 2023.

How do you train a steampunk sexbot?

Gillian Smith’s promotion to journeyman proves she’s ready to lead the Toymakers in producing astonishing new erotic artifacts. Creative, brilliant, and debauched, she’ll stretch her capabilities to the limit as she juggles a talent shortage and a pair of jealous rivals. Then there’s the challenge of their latest commission—a life-sized programmable sex doll intended to replace a client’s deceased paramour.

Normally she would consult the enigmatic Master Toymaker, but he seems preoccupied with his own concerns. Though her lusty crew of sexual renegades can offer technical and carnal assistance, Gillian is ultimately responsible for delivering the promised, near-impossible technology.

It’s fortunate she’s not one to give up—not even when events threaten the Guild’s very survival.

Buy Links
Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BRHGN35L
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BRHGN35L
Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1306694
Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940165993299
Kobo –  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-master-s-mark-the-toymaker-s-guild-book-3
Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6445290161
Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/75611538-the-master-s-mark

Contest!
Lisabet Sarai is running a contest to celebrate the release of The Master’s Mark. The prize is a $10 book store gift certificate, plus an ebook copy of the new novel in your choice of formats.

To enter, do the following:

  • Send an email at contest [at] lisabetsarai [dot] com
  • In the body of the email, list the names of two characters in The Master’s Mark. (You can discover this from various blog posts and excerpts.)

One entry per person, please. On the first of February, Lisabet will randomly draw a winner from among all the entries. Be sure to send your entry to the “contest” email address above.

PG Excerpt:

“Aha! I knew you were no schoolteacher, Miss!”

The familiar voice jerked her back to the present. She looked up, startled, and her eyes connected with those of Jeremiah Manley. Without thinking, she covered the drawings with her arm in an attempt to hide them from his curious gaze.

“Engineer Manley! How lovely to see you again.”

“Right you are, Miss – Gillian, wasn’t it?”

She nodded and flashed him a smile, flattered that he’d recalled her name. He looked every bit as attractive as he had upon their first meeting, taut and lean, brimming with life, seemingly ready to tumble into laughter at the slightest provocation. “My close friends call me Jill,” she volunteered.

“Well then, Jill!” He reached out to lay a dark hand upon her sleeve, pushing gently to expose the hidden designs. “And what have you here? Not some girl’s spelling homework, I’ll warrant.”

Warmth flowed from his palm, heating her own skin through the fabric of her dress. “That’s none of your affair, sir.”

“Sir – that hardly sounds like the response of a close friend! Come now, let me see. I already caught a glimpse. I know they’re blueprints, or something similar.”

“It’s a private commission,” she replied, gathering the papers and slipping them into her satchel. “We’ve promised the client complete confidentiality.”

“Ah!  So who is ‘we’, Jill-who-is-not-a-schoolteacher? Indeed, who are you?”

“I’m not at liberty to disclose that,” she replied primly.

“Really? Perhaps I can persuade you, Jill.” He swung himself into the chair close beside her, earning scandalised stares from the other inhabitants of the Ladies’ Lounge. She suddenly noticed that he was not wearing his uniform, though his grey tweed trousers and coat fit him equally well. Under the jacket he sported a blindingly white linen shirt without a cravat. The open neck exposed an enticing near-black triangle of bare skin.

“What happened to your uniform, Jeremiah? Are you not on duty?” He wasn’t touching her any more, but she still felt the heat, radiating from his all-too-close form. Her nipples beaded under her bodice.

“I resigned.” His normal smile fled. The scowl that replaced it made him look unexpectedly dangerous. “Couldn’t endure that jackass Thomas any longer.”

She nodded. “I’d hate to work under such a boor, I agree. But to throw away such a solid position – second engineer on a fine vessel like the Invicta – are you certain that was wise?”

He shrugged. “I’m more clever and nimble than wise. Otherwise I wouldn’t have survived this long.” His clouded expression broke once more into a sunny grin and he settled a hand on hers. He leaned closer, so close that she caught a hint of his spicy scent, and spoke more softly. “So, Jill-who-is-not-a-schoolteacher – would you like a tour of the engine room?”

Her heart did a somersault in her chest. “Oh, yes! Please!” She couldn’t have said whether the offer or Jeremiah’s proximity had more to do with her breathless excitement.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Wait just a few minutes, till we’re tied up at the dock. Then I’ll take you below. This is Invicta’s last crossing for the day. The crew’ll be busy filling her coal holds, so we won’t be disturbed.”

“But – I thought you were no longer employed—”

He held up a key. “You can never tell when you’ll need to check the engine.” His voice dropped to a near-whisper as he dropped it back into his coat pocket. “I had thoughts of doing some damage, actually. Thomas would be responsible and it would serve him right. But I decided a clean break would be best.”

“That was wise,” said Gillian with relief. He squeezed her hand, setting her pulse racing once again.

The boatswain’s shrill whistle announced their arrival at the dock. The lady passengers were already filing out of the lounge, casting disapproving glances in their direction. Jeremiah bounced to his feet and pulled her up after him. “We’d better get out of sight,” he urged. “The first mate does a sweep for stray passengers after every trip. Never know when you’ll find some gentleman who took excess advantage of the SS Invicta’s fine whisky.”

He stepped behind the bar into the small galley that served the lounge, then prised open a door on the left. “In here,” he murmured, pushing her in front of him into a dark, narrow space lined with shelves. When he pulled the closet shut, crowding against her, the blackness was nearly absolute. The storage area must have been located against an outside wall. She could hear footfalls upon the metal deck as the disembarking passengers headed for the gangway at the stern.

The space was redolent of tea, ginger marmalade and Jeremiah’s personal, peppery scent. They were crammed together, face to face, though he was a good deal taller. He rested a hand on her hip to stabilise her. She felt his breath stirring her hair and his heat penetrating her clothing.

Her own lungs seemed to have stopped working. She scarcely dared to move.

His hold on her was loose, their bodies still separated by a fraction of an inch. She imagined his chest pressed against her, mashing her breasts against his muscled torso. Her nipples ached for that missing stimulation. It was all too easy to conjure the sensation of his swollen prick prodding her belly, his pelvis grinding against her, his fingers tracing the line of her spine then cupping her buttocks to pull her closer…

A smooth palm caressed her cheek. Bold fingers tilted her chin up toward his unseen visage. “Jill…” he whispered, barely audible, before he pressed his lips to hers.

She melted into the kiss, flowing into his arms. The reality of his hard body was even better than her fantasies. A lush cloudburst of sensation drenched her as she opened to his brazen tongue and let him plunder her mouth. Tangy spice tickled her nostrils and a second heart beat between her thighs. She floated on the surface for a while, then sank gratefully into the passion of the moment, letting herself drown.

Introductory Essay:
Gillian Smith, the heroine of my Toymakers Guild series, is a scientific genius and a sexual adventurer. She’s only nineteen when she shows up at the door of Randerley Hall, successfully figures out the access code and demonstrates sufficient talent in both the technical and carnal realms to win a place for herself among the secretive and selective band of erotic artificers.

As the series continues, she becomes more mature, taming some of her impulsiveness and learning to understand the nuances of desire. She assumes increasing responsibility for the work of the Guild, providing design guidance and supervising the other engineers. Meanwhile, she remains open to the varied opportunities for sensual pleasure offered by Guild membership. She understands that lust is the lubricant for the Guild’s creativity and that despite the outrageous ways that it is sometimes expressed, the bonds among the Toymakers go far beyond the physical.

Authors often – perhaps even always – use aspects of themselves when creating their characters. Nevertheless, Gillian is not me. When I was nineteen, I was a dreamy bookworm, not an engineer. While she is bold and self-confident, I was painfully shy. Her appearance – tall, slender, with curly reddish hair – has little in common with my short, curvy build and mousy brown locks.

Still, at her age I was as fascinated by sex as she is, if nowhere near as active. As I grew older, that fascination deepened. I began to explore my kinks and cravings and live out my fantasies in a manner that she’d understand. I’ve had sexual adventures she’d find quite familiar. In the meantime, my view of sexuality ended up having quite a lot in common with hers – that even what seems like casual lust has emotional and spiritual dimensions.

I also must admit to basing some of Gillian’s emotions and behavior as a technical project leader on my own experience. I did end up as an engineer of sorts: a software engineer. Most of the technology in the Toymakers Guild series comes straight out of my imagination. I couldn’t wire a motor or machine a set of gears to save my life. But I do know what it’s like trying to deal with bugs in your programs when you’re facing a critical deadline. I understand the heavy burden of responsibility that comes with commitments that seem impossible to fulfill.

So, yes, Jill and I do share some traits and beliefs, though there’s more than a century between our worlds and half a century between our ages.  To me, though, she’s an independent individual – and after three novels, remarkably real. As an author, I’m amazed by the way characters develop over the course of writing a book. They begin as a sketch, perhaps borrowing from people we know (including ourselves), but before long they have lives of their own. Having followed her for more than three years and two hundred fifty thousand words, I know who Gillian Smith is. Honestly, though, I don’t know where she came from.

Praise for The Toymakers Guild:
The Pornographer’s Apprentice,The Toymakers Guild Book 1
There are many more plot points, but I don’t want to spoil your enjoyment of this book. It has varied and steamy sex scenes that will take your breath away, a plucky heroine who doesn’t always come out on top (ahem), but who always prevails in her quest to be accepted as a Toymaker.  ~ Fiona McGier, Goodreads

With thoughtfully written characters, hot sex scenes, and a well-paced and interesting plot, the Toymaker’s Apprentice leaves you asking only one question….when is the next book in the series coming out? ~ The Phantom Tollbooth, Amazon

[A] fast paced, hilarious, and thoroughly entertaining story as Gillian gets intimate with the staff and technology, only to find that there is a plot against the Guild that she takes on to save the day. I can’t wait to read what happens in the next book! ~ Arthur Royo, Amazon

The Journeyman’s Trial, The Toymakers Guild Book 2
Lisabet Sarai has taken on the challenge of following up The Pornographer’s Apprentice. I’m happy to say she’s exceeded her own lofty standards of writing. The dialogue in the story is unique, accurate to the era, and oftentimes features beautiful lines. You can look forward to a shocking mass of creativity from the ingenious mind of Miss Sarai. The erotic scenes are written beautifully and explosively. I found the pleasure of the characters hit me just as hard as it hit them. I’m looking forward to more from this world and the characters! ~ Amazon Customer, Verified Purchaser

About Lisabet
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, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Wow! Best Black Velvet Seductions anthology yet

Wow! Wonderful stories and superb writing. Black Velvet Seductions’ usual great job!

I’ve been lucky to be part of several anthologies produced by Black Velvet Seductions. They’ve all been excellent, really. But having just finished reading the newest, Dark Desire, I have to admit that I think this one might be my favorite. The stories are all very different. Even the ones with similar themes (shifters or ghosts) handle them in unique ways. Often in an anthology I might find one I’m not thrilled with. In Dark Desires, I enjoyed every single story.

Dark Desire has 12 stories written by: Alice Renaud, Alan Souter, Nancy Golinsky, Anne Krist, S.K. White, Virginia Wallace (two stories), F. Burn, Deborah Kelsey, Gibby Campbell, Zia Westfield, and Estelle Pettersen–all wonderful writers. If you don’t have a favorite among them now, you will when you read the book!

Here’s my review of the stories. I give all of them 5 stars.

Blood of the Ocean—Alice Renaud
I love Renaud’s mer stories but this one is slightly different in that the heroine is a mermaid criminal and exiled from her home islands. Without choice and in fear of betrayal, she teams up with a vampire to steal a precious, magical stone, the Blood of the Ocean. She didn’t expect her feelings for her new partner to be as strong and potent as her distaste for the task she had before her. The ending to this tale was a real surprise!

Wonder Town Station—Alan Souter
I so enjoyed this tale of the west as it changed from bare prairie and harsh winds to towns like Wonder, finally—maybe?—coming into its own. Bob Cramer and Chelsea Pickle wait for the train on a clod station platform to take them away from Wonder, which had not lived up to its name or promise. In the course of the night, they might find wonder in each other…or they might end up dead.

Grow Where You’re Planted—Nancy Golinsky
I love good ghost stories! Nancy Golinsjy’s story is one that combines ghosts with psychics who see them. The way Gina and Mike work together to get past the fear if seeing the dead and learn to use their powers for good is so good! Grow where you’re planted is great advice for sure.

Seen and Unseen—Anne Krist
Some people only believe in what they can see when sometimes the unseen is what saves you.

Linked—S.K. White
Linked will keep you guessing the whole way through. Lily and Colin are in an accident when his truck hydroplanes into her car and rolls them both over an embankment. It’s a miracle that he’s able to carry her to an abandoned house a short way down the road. But that’s when strange things start happening—it seems they just need to wish for things they need and they appear. But eventually, questions have to be answered. Are they dead or caught in some hallucination? Something is not right. Read on and you shall see.

The Ritual—Virginia Wallace
OMG! I loved this story, a romance unlike any other you’ll read. It feels weird to think of it as sweet, but it is. Kinda. Bert and Romy are two pieces of work who found each other, for better or (probably) for worse. It takes an exceptional writer to make readers like two such unlikeable characters, but Wallace has done it. I enjoyed Wallace’s story very much.

The Substitute—F. Burn
When Seth is hired as a supplement teacher in grade 6, both Michael and Natasha are instantly stunned by his good looks. But it’s Tasha who captures the new man’s attention. They come so close to admitting their feelings—Tasha is ready—but then Seth retreats. What could he be hiding? Slowly, Tasha uncovers his secret, and it’s a big one. When is true love eternal? She finds out.

Stille Nacht—Deborah Kelsey
This particular Christmas nacht  wasn’t so stille dring one of the darkest periods of world history when the Nazis occupied Paris. I wondered what the final outcome would be between Dieter and Faber in their duel of sexual superiority. Faber is obviously the Dom in the pair, but his desire for Dieter leads them on a dark battle nonetheless. Who will win? Or will the answer be both?

Electrifying—Gibby Campbell
When Alex, an ER doctor, lost her job and her sub al in the same day, she was faced with life-changing decisions. The move to Boulder, Colorado brought more advantages than she expected, though, when she boarded her horse with rodeo cowboy Josh. Not only easy on the eyes, Josh intrigued her. She sensed he might make a good sub, and she proved to be right. With Josh, she explored dark ideas she never dared before.

Beginning Forever—Virginia Wallace
“Werewolves and serial killers have one thing in common: seclusion is ever their ally.” This line described Jillian as her wolf. She’s found him, David, and is ready to go in for the kill That’s before she sees her him…and he sees her. Of course, she doesn’t kill him but that’s because they have a past. One he doesn’t remember. He’s also not aware of what she is. Their attraction grows until Jillian just can’t keep her secrets any longer. And then what will they become? I’m a real fan of Wallace’s writing!

Ryker’s Destiny—Zia Westfield
I loved this story! Fantasy, with shifters, fae, and war between the clans. Ryker is a bear shifter who takes his injured brother to a great healer. She agrees to heal his brother if Ryker agrees to save her granddaughter. He does agree, and at their first meeting realizes that she is his fated mate. This is a story that could be read in segments to middle schoolers.

The Wolf of Varg Island—Estelle Pettersen
Another wonderful story of wolf shifting. Harper has been plagued by dreams of chasing a wolf. No, the shadow of a wolf. Only the shadow. She is with an abusive boyfriend and needs time to recharge her batteries and evaluate her life, so she takes a cabin on Varg Island for a week. There she meets Chris Varg. Soon, she discovers his secret. And then she discovers her own.

I know you are going to enjoy Dark Desire as much as I did! I’d love it if you would leave a review to let BVS know what you thought!


Charity Sunday: Gigi’s Playhouse

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

Gigi’s Playhouse is a worldwide organization dedicated to helping children and young adults with Down syndrome become better developed and to be accepted by their communities and their families. A large number of pre-birth children who are detected to have Down are aborted. Gigi’s Playhouse show what a joy and blessing those children can be. Their mission is: “To change the way the world views Down syndrome and to send a global message of acceptance for all.” Please check them out. One of their 55 locations might be near you if you have a need, or near someone you know. Thanks for commenting!

My book this month is The Man of Her Dreams.

Blurb:
It will take a heck of a psychic to keep Dan from getting killed. Is Cassandra that good?

A woman who has traveled thousands of miles searching for a tall man with brilliant blue eyes, a man she’s been dreaming of for months.

A man whose life is in danger—or so the screwy woman having dreams and visions says—but who doesn’t believe for one minute in the occult.

A man who has been thought dead for two years and who disappeared with a bundle in stolen cash.

How will these three come together? And who will be left standing at the end of their encounter?

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
“What did you mean that after seeing me you thought you might be in the right place?”

A few moments passed while Cassandra considered what to say. People so often took her precognitions the wrong way. Finally, she screwed up her courage and turned to him.

“This is going to be hard for you to understand. I’ve… seen you before. I’ve had dreams for the past several weeks that feature you pretty prominently. I recognized you as soon as I saw you.”

Dan glanced at her, incredulity plain on his face and then he chuckled. “I have to admit, I don’t think any woman has ever told me that she dreamed about me before. Not literally, anyway. You mean you had a dream about a guy like me.”

“No, I mean I dreamed about you, you specifically. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true.” She looked out the window to the side of the road, seeing only pines and a house here and there, in the growing darkness. Dan didn’t speak immediately.

“What is it you dream? Something enjoyable, I hope.” His words were light but his tone made it clear that he wasn’t happy with the subject.

“Actually…” She turned to look at him again, “I’m glad you asked, because I wondered how I was going to bring this up. I dream that you’re dying. Drowning. You need to take special care around water.”

Dan glanced at her again, his lips compressed and his eyes narrowed into slits. “Not so pleasant then. Good thing I don’t believe in that sort of stuff. I noticed you’ve got California plates. The land of nuts, they say. No offense, but maybe there’s some truth to that.”

Cassandra glared at Dan. “You’d do well not to toss around old clichés and misconceptions, considering how many there are about the South. I appreciate your stopping and helping me as you have, but let’s not go any further down this path of conversation.” She lapsed into silence.

Fortunately, Dan didn’t try to engage her in any more talk. She’d have to consider how to bring up the subject of her dreams again when maybe he’d be in a more receptive frame of mind. She hadn’t traveled over three thousand miles to give up after one brush off.

After several minutes of tense silence, he pulled up in front of the Green Hills Inn. “I’ll wait here while you find out if they have a room.”

Cassandra went inside, returning shortly with a key. Opening the back door to reach for her suitcases, she said, “Thanks very much, Dan. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me. Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Wait a minute.” Dan jumped out of the truck and grabbed her suitcases. “I’ll take these up for you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Just get on inside, will you?” he said harshly.

Cassandra scowled, but walked through the lobby to the elevators, where she jabbed the Up button. At room 410 she slid the keycard into the slot and opened the door just enough to admit herself. Turning, she wrestled her suitcases from Dan.

“Thanks again. Bye.”

As she backed into the room and dropped her bags beside the bed, Dan put his hand against the door to stop it from closing and followed her in.

“Wait just a damn minute,” Cassandra started, “you’ve got no right to come into my room. Just because you helped me out doesn’t give you any claims, and I’ll thank you to leave. Now.” Fire filled her tone. She’d been single long enough to know how to take care of herself, but she was a little tired for a fight.

“I’m not asking for any claims, lady. I’ve just got something to say to you, and I think it will be in your best interest to listen up. There’re a lot of superstitious notions still believed by some people in the South, but most people are going to look at you like you’re crazy if you go around telling them you’ve been seeing and hearing things. And rightly so, to my way of thinking. So just a friendly word of warning. However long you’re in my town, you’ll get along better if you keep your little loony visions to yourself.” He had stepped right up to her and looked directly down into her eyes.

“Your town?” She felt the heat from his body and his breath softly blowing her hair. Although she knew she was frowning and appeared in control, inside she trembled. Like a tug-of-war, he had the power to pull her closer while she fought to remain steady, cool, and calm. Or at least appear that way. With effort, she steeled herself.

“My town, California.”

“Point taken. Now you can leave. Or do you have any other words of wisdom to pass on?” 

His eyes fell to her mouth then slowly moved back up to her eyes.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you,” he murmured. Grasping her shoulders, he lowered his head and kissed her, softly at first, but then harder as his body began to respond.

Without meaning to, Cassandra moaned, falling into the kiss as she leaned into him. His lips were soft and warm. He used them to massage hers and coax them into opening. His tongue was light on her lips, silky, brushing them as if to imprint their texture and form. She forgot for a moment that she had only known this man for a couple of hours.

Just as he tried to slip his tongue between her lips, she came to herself and pushed against him. She caught her breath and without thinking, slapped him hard across the face.

Shock filled his eyes, and then anger as he stepped back. She could see her handprint on his cheek and knew that it had to have hurt, because her hand hurt. Putting her fingers to her lips as though to erase his kiss, she stared at him.

“I hope you enjoy your short time in Greenwood and have a safe journey when you leave. Dill will take good care of your car. Goodnight, Ms. Hudson.” He turned and stormed from the room. A minute later, alerted by the unmistakable noise from the diesel engine, she strode to the window and watched him pull away from the motel and onto the street.

Cassandra took her bag of toiletries into the bathroom and undressed for her shower. Although she was shaken from the kiss and her initial reaction to Dan Morgan, the water beating against her body helped relax her. By the time she had put on her soft cotton gown, she knew she could sleep.

However, she hadn’t been in deep sleep very long before the dream started again.

Author Dee S. Knight:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! On the last Sunday of the month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Sign up for her newsletter for exclusive access to free novellas, poetry, and stuff.

Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

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New! Mystery, history, and prizes! Jan Selbourne and Anne Krist

Evil Lives in the Night
Two historical, suspense, noir novellas

Out now! From award-winning authors Jan Selbourne and Anne Krist, two mysteries written to keep you guessing.

Check out our contest below!

Blurb:

In Jan Selbourne’s The Next Stop Is Dead, a woman boards a city train one night and finds herself alone in the car with four strangers, all men. When she discovers one of them is dead, she has to find a way to exit the train and get help. Will she escape, or will the next stop be her final one?

In Anne Krist’s Missing, sisters Audra and Daina communicate using “twin language.” But how much difference will that make when Daina disappears? Can Audra find her sister before her abductor ends Daina’s life? Even with the help of an over-protective detective, saving her missing twin might not happen in time.

Buy links:

U.S. Amazon Kindle Unlimited

Australia Kindle Unlimited

Excerpts:

From The Next Stop Is Dead

Alison buttoned her coat against the cold wind blowing along the platform. Melbourne might be dull and staid, but we hosted the 1956 Olympic Games, we are known for our theatres and culture and Flinders Street Station was once the busiest in the world. Something the bragging Sydneysiders hadn’t achieved.

She looked at the ticket in her hand and up at the train timetable. The next train would go express from Richmond to Caulfield then stopping all stations to Dandenong. You can’t sit here all night.

Wheels on the tracks and the train pulled into the platform. Not one of the new blue trains but an old red rattler that should have been pensioned off years ago. Three young, laughing women wearing Footscray Tennis Club jackets got out of the end carriage and hurried down the exit ramp. Feeling miserable, Alison got in hoping she’d be on her own. Empty except for three men sitting together on the last row of seats. She walked to the other end of the carriage and sat down. The whistle blew and the train moved away from the platform and into the tunnel.

The train increased its pace through Jolimont Yard and without meaning to, Alison glanced at the three men at the other end of the carriage. They hadn’t moved, just sitting there reading newspapers without speaking. The man next to the window looked at her, lit a cigarette and after blowing a cloud of smoke into the air lifted his newspaper closer to his face. She turned to the window again as they passed the huge Melbourne Cricket Ground, holy ground for cricket fanatics and home of Australian Rules Football. Watching grass grow was more interesting than watching cricket.

The train was slowing down to stop at Richmond station. The door opened and she looked up as a man with a newspaper tucked under his arm got in. He walked past her and took a seat on the other side of the aisle. The train began to move out of the station.

Four men and one woman and they’d express through the next five stations before stopping at Caulfield. Feeling very uncomfortable she held her overnight bag closer and gazed through the window as the train gathered speed. Except for the clattering train wheels it was quiet, creepy quiet. They’d just passed South Yarra station and the reflection in the grimy window moved. That man was looking at her. Oh hell, he was standing up. Her chest thumped when he crossed the aisle and sat beside her.

A wide smile. “What are you like with crossword puzzles?”

Alison felt the blood drain from her face. Should she get up and go closer to the three men? It struck her then they hadn’t spoken or moved since she got on the train.

He lifted his newspaper. “The crossword is very hard today. Can you help me?”

Her throat went dry. “Pardon?”

“Two heads are better than one,” he said brightly and pointed to the top of the page. For a few seconds her eyes refused to absorb the words in thick capital letters. DO NOT LOOK UP. GET OUT AT THE NEXT STOP. THE MAN IN THE MIDDLE IS DEAD.

From Missing:

Something woke her. She moved and the magazine fell to the floor. Groggy, she scraped her hair back from her face and then rubbed her eyes. She didn’t need to look to see that Daina’s bed remained empty—she’d feel her sister if she were there.

The room was dark, the door closed. But she’d left the light on in the living room and the bedroom door open. Hadn’t she?

She’d forgotten to wind the alarm clock and it had stopped at two-oh-five. She clicked on the lamp on the table between their beds and got up to check her watch on the dresser. Three o’clock. Her heart raced and her mouth dried. Where in the world was her sister?

Suddenly, the front door closing sounded like a shot. She slid into her slippers and tightened the sash on her robe. “Daina!” She threw open the bedroom door and rushed to the apartment door.

Automatically grabbing her key from the dish by the door, she rushed out into the hallway and down the stairs. She hadn’t reached the bottom step when she saw a man halfway out the door. He turned to look at her and she gasped. His face was rough. Stubble made it dark. A jagged, angry scar ran from his left temple to his jaw line. There was no smile, no lightening of expression. With a scowl, he pulled a black, flat cap low and then left.

The door hardly made a sound but his presence in her building set off an explosion in Audra’s mind. Who was he? How had he gained entrance? What was he doing at three o’clock in the morning skulking around her building?

Fear gave way to panic. Her knees nearly gave out when the thought occurred that he might have been in their apartment, that it had been he who she heard closing their front door. Then the thought that screamed in her mind. Did he have anything to do with Daina’s disappearance?

On shaky lags, she climbed the stairs. She’d make a pot of coffee and then wait until daylight made it safe to walk to the bus stop to start the trek downtown to the police department. She’d think later about calling her parents but first thing this morning she’d have to file a missing person report for her sister. Her twin. The other half of her soul.

Contest!

Take a chance on winning an Amazon gift card! After you’ve read our novellas, read the question. Then click the appropriate email link (Anne if you live in the U.S. and Jan if you live in Australia) and send us your answer, your name, and email address. Contest begins June 30 and ends July 20. Winners will be selected on July 21. More details are on our website, Nomad Authors.

It’s way too cold if you’re heading into winter in Oz!

Author Anne Krist:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! Once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Where to find Anne:

Website: https://nomadauthors.com/annekrist/index.html

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

Author Jan Selbourne:

Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

Where to find Jan
Website: https://nomadauthors.com/JanSelbourne/index.html
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jan.selbourne
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JanSelbourne
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jan-selbourne-2817b6140/
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

Charity Sunday: RWJ Barnabas Field of Dreams

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

A few weeks ago, I saw a news feature of a playground in Toms River, New Jersey. The B.W.J. Barnabas Health playground is very special because it’s designed to fit every level of ability a child can manage. (The playground can also be used by adults who have special needs and even some recovering from surgery.) The design of the playground is phenomenal, all due to the vision of Christian Kane, the town of Toms River, and corporations who pitched in to help. Kane’s brilliant idea is to benefit his son who was severely injured in a car accident as an infant, but who now, and age 8 or so, wants to play baseball.

The mission of the complex is: The Toms River Field of Dreams (TRFOD) is a project with a mission to encourage and engage our communities (Monmouth and Ocean Counties), with a focus on those with special needs, in physical and social activity by building a community complex to provide opportunities for special needs individuals of all ages and abilities to engage, explore and socialize together.

If you check out the website, scroll down the Home page and watch one of the videos that describe this amazing place. You’ll see why I’m so impressed. This donation will be going to the Toms River complex, where they still have work to finish. But these types of playgrounds can, and should, be available all over the country. Think of the joy! Thanks for your help!!

My book this month is a fantasy and study in adults who need special things, things that will—mysteriously—make their dreams come true. Your Desire

Your Desire by Dee S. Knight

Blurb:
Your Desire. A mysterious shop appears in town for one reason: to bring the spice of passion and the thrill of love to one special person. Magic is in more than the item purchased—it’s in the heart of the buyer, often hidden, usually surprising. And after enchantment takes hold and the fantasy is fulfilled? The store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town…?

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
The whir of a sewing machine traveled across the ether. As intended, the sound blended with the those of a lawn mower in Cleveland, a blender in Dallas, an electric razor in Seattle. Some people, those specially attuned to properties outside the normal realm of humans, heard buzzing that could have been a sewing machine, but it was faint and truly indistinguishable for what it was. More like a mosquito at the ear. They heard it but couldn’t decipher exactly where to swat, so they did their best ignore it.

Of course, the sound was not supposed to be heard, and therefore not investigated. The very few who did hear it clearly, who also heard Nigel and his granddaughter clearly, well, they generally resided in a hospital setting where three squares a day were provided and tranquility came in the form of little green pills. At the least, they saw a shrink three times a week. Their knowledge wasn’t taken seriously.

This worried Nigel, but what could he do? It wasn’t his fault humans had devolved to the point where they no longer believed in enchantment. He shook his head and tsked as he sewed. When he was a boy learning the business from his grandfather as his granddaughter now learned from him, no one would have believed the universe could get to this point, where people believed in the “magic” of technology but not the magic that could be found in their own hearts.

Of course, challenges were exciting, and skeptical humans certainly kept him on his toes.

Absently, he hummed as he completed the final seam on the full, purple satin skirt. He pulled it from the machine, snipped the threads and shook the material out before pinning it on the dress form.

“Edwina! I have the skirt finished. Come here, dear.” Standing back to cast a critical eye over how the skirt hung, he held up an artist’s rendition of what the final product should be. He looked from drawing to garment, made a few small adjustments to the pleating around the waist and nodded in satisfaction.

“Hey, Gramps,” his granddaughter said, bounding into the room.

For the millionth time, he mentally cringed at the lack of style in today’s youth. Their kind had the ability to appear any way they wished. Glancing in the mirror, he saw a debonair David Niven reflected back. The sleeves of his snowy white shirt were rolled to his elbows, but the Windsor knot in his tie was perfect, as was the knife-sharp crease in his trousers and the shine on his shoes. When he rolled down his sleeves and put on his jacket, he would look every inch the gentleman. Quirking his brows in approval, he unconsciously ran a fingertip lightly over his moustache. Instead of selecting what he would consider an appropriate shell, Edwina—a name which screamed propriety—chose to look like a bag lady gone wild.

Like today, for instance. Long blond hair, streaked with pink and purple, pulled up into a ponytail to hang down the side of her head. Black lipstick and eye shadow. Two earrings in one ear and four in the other. A bright orange tank top and faded jeans—separated scandalously by a good three inches of bare stomach—looked as though they’d been worn (and torn) for centuries. And her feet—her lovely, dainty feet!—were shod in horrid, ugly brown things that not even the most desperate soldier in Caesar’s army would have donned.

When he had questioned her once about her appearance, she’d said with delight that she was starting her own trend. A Lauper-Madonna-Pink look. It was not something he’d understood. Today, after a quick perusal, he leaned closer.

“What is that?” He swiped his thumb across her cheek, then examined what was on the pad.

“Body glitter. Isn’t it cool?” She grinned at him.

Her enthusiasm, as well as her utter lack of self-consciousness, brought the slightest of smiles to his eyes, even as his mouth formed a moue of reproach.

“Yes, well.” He wiped his thumb on a handkerchief pulled from the pocket of his jacket, hanging on the wall behind Edwina. “‘Cool’ is what ice cubes provide. I don’t know what body glitter is good for.”

Giggles flowed from her, reminding him of when she was a small girl instead of the nearly grown youngster she was now. Where had the centuries gone? Despite the shudders her wardrobe caused, he loved Edwina enormously and strove to give her the very best education in what they did, which was make dreams come true.

Author Dee S. Knight:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! On the last Sunday of the month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Sign up for her newsletter for exclusive access to free novellas, poetry, and stuff.

Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

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A new space romp! Celtan Dilemma by Eileen Troemel

Blurb:
Traitor or criminal?

Lieutenant Lillian Buckner receives orders to take her squad of women pilots out to specific coordinates and destroy an unarmed transport. Lilly must decide whether to be a war criminal by firing on an unarmed vessel or to be a traitor and disobey her orders. Her life and those of her six pilots depends on her decision. No matter her decision, the punishment may kill her if she returns to the human forces.

Trust or Punish?

Lord Hugh Korol fights against the humans. They invaded the Celtan’s territory and took sectors of space from them. The humans attacked their home world. When human women aid one of their unarmed transports, he must decide what to do to them. Can he trust the one he desires or will she break more than the fragile trust growing between them?

Buy link:
Amazon Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
A big man, Ray Harris took anyone to his bed he wanted. He wanted Lillian but she steadfastly refused. Something about him rubbed her the wrong way.

“Are you clear on the mission,” he growled at her as he brushed against her breast, squeezed her bottom as he paced around and around her.

“Sir, we seek out this ship,” Lillian repeated her orders, careful not to call it a transport. “Once we find the ship, we destroy it.”

“Will there be any chatter, like you hens normally do,” Ray insulted them.

“Sir, my squad follows protocol,” Lillian defended her squad.

“There are complaints about your squad,” Commander Harris smirked. “You should be nicer to me. It will help me better address those complaints.”

“Sir,” Lillian realized a solution to both her problems. “When I return from this mission, I’ll be happy to discuss in detail how we can make my squad better. If you don’t mind a private meeting with me.”

Ray Harris smiled. His hands slid down to her bottom and squeezed. He walked around to stand in front of her. He yanked her into a tight embrace, pressed his lips against hers, thrust his tongue in while he squeezed her breasts. “I think a private meeting is optimal. There might need to be several,” he murmured against her lips.

“Yes, sir,” Lillian tried not to cringe or curl her lip at the prospect.

“We could start now,” he suggested.

“I don’t want to be late for the mission,” Lillian evaded his advances. “I think our meeting is too important to hurry, don’t you?”

“In your quarters,” Ray narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, sir,” Lillian affirmed while meeting his eyes. “We can both get comfortable.”

“Very well,” Commander Harris pulled her tighter against him before letting her go. “Get out there and make sure you follow all protocols.”

“Yes, sir,” Lillian said walking away. She managed to not jump when he slapped her ass.

Another excerpt:
“It appears you are the last one to claim your mate,” Npin prompted Lilly.

“I may select any male in this room,” Lilly asked.

“Yes,” Npin said.

Lilly looked at each of the men. Most of them looked away from her, didn’t meet her eyes. She looked into Lord Korol’s eyes, saw kindness there. She walked up to him, held out her hand and waited.

Npin smiled as Lord Korol swept her into his arms, sealed the claiming with a kiss rather than holding her hand. Lilly tried to withdraw but his gentleness overwhelmed her reserve. His lips teased hers. Her eyes closed, her body melted against his, wanting him to kiss her, a first for her. Long moments passed as he accepted the woman who claimed him and sealed the claim with a long sweet sensual kiss.

When he raised his head, she gasped, “Oh.” She touched her lips, felt her body tingle with need and desire.

“We will retire to my quarters,” he said not taking his eyes off her.

Buy Celtan Dilemma now!

New from Julia Kent! Love You Right (Love You, Maine, Book 1)

A missed opportunity five years ago makes for an unexpected encounter now between two people meant for each other – but who square off in a very public battle of wills in the small town of Love You, Maine, where every day is Valentine’s Day. Can love conquer all in a town steeped in it?

Blurb:

Kell Luview refuses to be a sucker at love again. Five years ago, he left D.C. with his tail between his legs and his heart broken. Fiercely protective of his small town in rural Maine, he’s determined to save the family tree business and avoid his feelings at all costs, no matter how much he longs to solve the mystery of what happened in D.C.

L.A. native Rachel Hart hates being underestimated almost as much as she hates this small town. She has two goals on this trip: get out of the cheesy tourist trap of Love You, Maine with a completed business deal, and avoid running into Kell, her old friend from D.C. who never became an old flame because of a huge misunderstanding.

One that still aches.

When her rental car breaks down on a logging road and Kell comes to her rescue, it’s clear he’s a changed man – and not for the good. Grumpy and reserved, he pushes all her buttons, still stubbornly convinced she betrayed him all those years ago. He’s never forgiven her, and she’s never forgiven herself for carrying a torch for him.

An embarrassing incident gets the town gossip mill going when residents wrongly assume Kell and Rachel are the newest couple to find love in the most romantic place on Earth. But the townsfolk aren’t wrong for long…

As Rachel breaks through his defenses and charms the town, he faces his biggest fear: all those pesky feelings he’s been avoiding.

Because they’re all about Rachel now.

And maybe they always were.

Can Kell and Rachel fight their growing attraction in the one place in the world where you can’t avoid love?

Buy links:

Amazon US:  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09R15LTCH

Amazon UK:  https://www.amazon.co.uk/Love-You-Right-Enemies-Romantic-ebook/dp/B09R15LTCH/

Amazon AU:  https://www.amazon.com.au/Love-You-Right-Enemies-Romantic-ebook/dp/B09R15LTCH/

Amazon CA:  https://www.amazon.ca/Love-You-Right-Enemies-Romantic-ebook/dp/B09R15LTCH/

Apple Books:  https://books.apple.com/us/book/love-you-right/id1606788218

Kobo:  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/love-you-right

Nook:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-you-right-julia-kent/1140922643?ean=2940160825670

Google Play:  https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Julia_Kent_Love_You_Right?id=s4xaEAAAQBAJ&hl=en_US&gl=US

Print:  https://www.amazon.com/Love-You-Right-Enemies-Romantic/dp/163880060X/

Website:  https://jkentauthor.com/books/love-you-maine/love-you-right

BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/books/love-you-right-small-town-enemies-to-lovers-romantic-comedy-love-you-maine-book-1-by-julia-kent

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/59694646-love-you-right

Audible: https://www.audible.com/pd/Love-You-Right-Audiobook/B09Y9GVNV8

Amazon Audio: https://www.amazon.com/Love-You-Right-Maine-Book/dp/B09Y9K3QR6/

iTunes:  COMING SOON

Love You, Maine

If you’re looking for a fun read about enemies to lovers, forced proximity, heroines who get their comeuppance and sworn bachelors felled by unexpected true love, featuring a hot bearded lumberjack impervious to poison ivy, and a city-slicker, jaded career woman with a penchant for great coffee, set in a small town in New England – then this is your book.

Grab a cup of (properly good) coffee, a can of hot cocoa mix, a jar of Fluff and maybe some calamine lotion (just in case), and get your happymeter ready as you read the very first book in New York Times bestselling romantic comedy author Julia Kent’s Love You, Maine series – where love isn’t just a feeling – it’s a way of life.

Excerpt:

“Kell,” she whispered against his mouth. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For this.” She motioned at the romantic dinner he’d created for the two of them, the wide table in this conference room an ample spread for a…

Ample spread.

“We haven’t even had dinner. Thank me after.”

She batted her eyelashes. “Is that an offer?”

“Rachel,” he said, moving his hand from her waist to cup her ass. “That’s more than an offer.”

He started to kiss her again, but she put her fingers on his lips. “If we don’t eat dinner first, we’ll never eat. And I have a meeting here in this very room, to try to pitch the deal again, in three days. Boundaries, Kell – boundaries. I refuse to have sex on this conference table.”

“The thought never, ever occurred to me,” he lied.

“Liar.”

“Caught.”

With a deep laugh he adored, she reached for the bottle of wine. “How about you uncork this and we start with a lovely glass.”

“Fine. The table is off the table.”

Julia Kent:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. Since 2013, she has sold more than 2 million books, with 4 New York Times bestsellers and more than 21 appearances on the USA Today bestseller list. Her books have been translated into French, German, and Italian, with more titles releasing in the future.

From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire she met in a romantic comedy).

She lives in New England with her husband and three children where she is the only person in the household with the gene required to change empty toilet paper rolls.

She loves to hear from her readers by email at julia@jkentauthor.com, on Twitter @jkentauthor, on Facebook at @jkentauthor, and on Instagram @jkentauthor. Visit her at http://jkentauthor.com

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://jkentauthor.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/jkentauthor

Newsletter:  http://bit.ly/2PIBi9n

Instagram:  https://www.instagram.com/jkentauthor/

BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/julia-kent

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3238619.Julia_Kent

Amazon Author Page:  https://www.amazon.com/Julia-Kent/e/B00A99V268/

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

Hold on tight–there’s a little Rough Weather ahead! NEW from Lisabet Sarai

Destiny hides in the tempest’s heart

Elemental Passions Book 2

Blurb:
A fated encounter. A familiar stranger. A storm of passion. Can Ondine release her fear, surrender to Marut’s power, and claim her own?

Marine biologist Ondine Ambrose 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.

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. When he insists that they are both more than human, and that she is his destined mate, Ondine responds with skepticism. She tries to resist the charismatic Haitian, but ultimately she cannot deny the evidence of her senses—and her heart.

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

Buy Links

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09Y2P7741

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09Y2P7741

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1142402

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/2940165838149

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/rough-weather-elemental-passions-book-2

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id1619557657

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60820375-rough-weather

Read an Online Excerpt (PG)

Special deal! Get the first book of the Elemental Passions series, Hot Spell, for only 99 cents at all stores… for a limited time!

Excerpt:

“Wind is far less destructive than fossil fuels. You know that.”

The stranger cupped his tea mug in his big hands. Marut, he called himself. His handsome face wore an earnest expression, while his body was wrapped in her old terrycloth robe, the one she planned to donate to Goodwill. Meanwhile, Ondine herself wore a loose T-shirt and sweatpants that effectively hid her curves. No sense tempting fate.

She hadn’t intended to bring him here, but his clothing was soaked and, like her, he had bloody abrasions on his hands and knees from their fierce encounter on the rocks. So she’d led him over the dunes—careful not to touch him—to the weathered clapboard house she’d inherited from her grandmother. After giving him antiseptic and Band Aids, she’d left him alone in the downstairs bathroom to clean himself up and tend to his wounds. She certainly didn’t intend to play nurse to him, that was certain. She had no idea what had possessed her out on the beach, but she didn’t want to experience it again.

Not that it hadn’t felt wondrous. Indeed, every time she looked at him, she recalled the overwhelming hunger that had seized her. The memory of their frantic encounter unnerved her. The pleasure had been incredible. The loss of control, though, had been terrifying.

Ondine was no virgin, but she’d always been careful about sex. She was normally the one who chose the time and place. And after her mother’s tragic experience, she was unfailingly vigilant about contraception, all the more so because her body would tolerate neither the pill nor an IUD. As she showered off the grit, sweat and semen, she felt grateful that her interactions with Marut had not involved penetration. She didn’t normally carry condoms on a walk to the beach.

He was a stranger, possibly even an enemy. There was something unnatural about the intimacy they’d shared, so sudden and so potent. She would need to remain on her guard.

Rousing herself from her musings, she sipped her own tea and nibbled at one of her ginger snaps. “Of course. Oil, gas, coal—they’re bad news. But why not build your wind farm on dry land? You’d have a much smaller ecological impact.”

“Nobody wants a ninety meter steel tower in their backyard.”

“So you put it where there’s no one to object!”

“In many cases the winds are stronger and more reliable offshore too.”

“And that justifies the cost to wildlife?”

“Global warming’s a bigger threat to ocean life than any wind farm.” Marut’s abruptness suggested annoyance.

Smug satisfaction warmed her, though she recognized that reaction as childish. As a scientist, she was well aware that the tradeoffs and issues were complex. There was no simple answer to the problems facing humanity. Somehow, though, she couldn’t stop herself from baiting him.

“That’s a research question, I think.”

“Look.” He flashed a conciliatory smile that lit up his strong, even features. “Let’s call a truce. My company is in the preliminary stages of design, just studying feasibility and cost-effectiveness for different locations. The installation might turn out to be totally impractical.”

About the Author

Lisabet Sarai

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, ménage, 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.

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