New from Lisabet Sarai, An Alien Ménage: Bodies of Light!

Love travels faster than light!

Physicist Dr. Christine Monroe signs on to the Archimedes, a sub-light-speed mission to colonize Sirius-B. Waking from stasis, she finds the ship wildly off course, the crew dead and her ship haunted by two virile aliens who appear human. As Archimedes begins to disintegrate, Christine must choose between the planet she was sent to save and the unearthly beings she’s come to cherish.

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Entwined but has been revised and updated.

BuyLinks
Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1196-bodies-of-light-an-alien-mnage-/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CC9QPKMB

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CC9QPKMB

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1424481

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bodies-of-light-lisabet-sarai/1143797134?ean=2940166082862

Kobo  – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/bodies-of-light-an-alien-menage

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6451396778

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Erotic Energy
For most of my career, I’ve been writing erotic stories which include explicit sex. Now, many people think that sex is the ultimate physical experience, that it’s all about body parts, stimulation of erogenous zones, pleasurable sensations and ultimate release. That’s not my view.

Eroticism begins in the mind. If this were not true, why would certain activities be arousing in one person’s company, boring or even aversive with someone else? When I think back over my rich and varied sexual experiences, I don’t recall the detailed sensations, but rather, the emotions I felt and the connections I enjoyed with my partners. My personal slogan tries to capture this observation: imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

When I began writing Bodies of Light, originally published in an anthology of space-themed romance, I tried, as I usually do, to put a different spin on the tale. Love scenes usually occur in the physical world, but what if you’re making love to beings without bodies? What if you encountered aliens who were pure energy? Could a human woman love such creatures? Could they return that love? And if so, how would they express it in a realm where matter was not relevant?

These are the questions I explore in Bodies of Light. Nearly a century ago, Einstein demonstrated that matter and energy were inter-convertible. An entity composed of energy could take on material form, creating a body out of the light that was his fundamental nature so that he could express physical love. Perhaps, though, this experience would be far less satisfying than connecting and exchanging unadulterated erotic energy.

This realization lies at the heart of my heroine’s journey into an unlimited universe.

Excerpt:
The alarm buzzed in Christine’s ears like an angry wasp. Electric current crackled along her skin, goading her long-dormant nerves into responsiveness. Her attempt to inhale turned into a racking cough as her body expelled the last traces of fluid from her lungs. Her eyes flickered open. Dim as it was, the blue-tinged light within the suspension pod made her head pound.

Her limbs felt weighted with lead. She tried to wiggle her fingers. They were stiff, as though encrusted with rust. The gel that cradled her gradually warmed. As it did, her joints grew more flexible. Little by little the pod thawed her long-immobile body.

As soon as she could lift her arm, she groped for the release switch. Her movements were clumsy and slow. The curved hatch over her face slid back, exposing her to the cooler air outside. Goosebumps rose on her bare skin. She pulled the tubes from her arms and pushed aside the tangle of cables strapped around her brow. When she struggled to sit up, a wave of dizziness crashed over her. She waited for the vertigo to subside.

The fog in her brain thinned a bit. She remembered where she was—the Archimedes, en route to Sirius 2. Had they arrived, then? Listening closely, she heard nothing but her own breathing.

The suspension bay was located near the center of the ship in order to protect it from possible meteor damage to the hull. There were no viewports. It hardly mattered. Christine was a physicist, not an astronomer or a pilot. Even if she could have seen the stars, she couldn’t have read them. She needed to get to the bridge, to figure out how far they were from their destination and whether it was time to revive the rest of the crew.

She swung her legs out of the coffin-like suspension capsule and took a stab at standing. Her knees buckled when she transferred her weight, leaving her slumped on the rubber-clad floor. Her head swam. When her vision cleared, she tried again. This time she managed to stay upright although she had to lean on the capsule for support.

Christine took a deep breath. She felt the strength returning gradually to her body. Her skin was slimy with residue from the nutrient gel that had nourished her inanimate form during the months —or was it years?—since the ship had departed.

At point-nine lightspeed, the maximum velocity of which the Archimedes was capable, the journey to the Sirius cluster should have taken almost thirteen years. Was that long wait really over? It had seemed like the blink of an eye. A kind of rosy haze hung in her mind, a sense of peace and well-being, but she couldn’t remember any details about her time in stasis.

She surveyed the nineteen other capsules arranged around the perimeter of the bay. She seemed to be the only one the ship had awakened. She stumbled over to the closest pod—Ravin Conter, the xenobiologist and her assigned partner—and peered in through the curved glass. She could just make out his rugged features, pale and composed.

Something wasn’t right, though. Her thoughts still disordered by the transition, it took her ten seconds to put her finger on the problem. The capsule should have been lit from within by the same low-intensity blue as her own had been. However, there was no interior illumination. Only the ambient light of the bay made Ravin’s face visible.

“Ravin!” she cried. Her voice woke hollow echoes in the metal-walled chamber. The vital sign indicators on the control panel were blank. She keyed the emergency revival sequence into the controls on the top of the pod. Nothing happened.  There was no power running to the capsule. It was dead, and so, it was obvious, was the person within.

“No!”

She stared at Ravin’s naked form, cradled in blue-green gel and twined in wires and hoses. How could he be dead? What had happened? Christine whirled around to check the next capsule—Amber Stone, ship’s doctor and the closest thing she had to a friend. Like Ravin’s, Amber’s pod was dark and unresponsive.

Fighting down her panic, Christine examined the remaining suspension capsules. All appeared to have malfunctioned. All the occupants lay in darkness within, perfectly-preserved corpses.

“No, no—please, no!” she keened, sinking to her knees in the center of the room. “Oh, please…” Her eyes burned as tears welled up for the first time in years.

She had not really been close to anyone on the Archimedes—she and Ravin had been paired solely on the basis of genetic and psychological compatibility—but she had liked and respected them all. They’d had the courage to volunteer for Earth’s first interstellar mission, to risk their lives for the future of humanity. Hell, they’d fought hard for the opportunity, beating the hundreds of other candidates. They’d endured the two years of grueling preparation. They’d climbed willingly into the suspension capsules knowing they wouldn’t emerge for years—if ever. Each had left his or her life on Earth behind, well aware that the odds of the mission succeeding were small and that, even if it did succeed, they could never return.

Now they were gone and, with them, all hope of establishing a colony. The mission was a failure—one final failure in the long series that had been her life.

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, 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

Whoa! The Gazillionaire and the Virgin by Lisabet Sarai (with special Valentine/February pricing!)

Trust can’t be bought—it has to be earned.

Blurb:

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 can’t 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 Theo’s 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 Rachel’s unwitting violation of Theo’s trust tears them apart.

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

Buy Links (Ebook):

Special Valentine’s Price: Ebook only 99 cents until the end of February! https://amzn.to/3LvN80p

Kinky Literature: https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/811-the-gazillionaire-and-the-virgin-/

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09SDY5XJ5/

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B09SDY5XJ5/

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-gazillionaire-and-the-virgin-lisbet-sarai/1123327821?ean=2940165788888

Kobo: [hopefully coming soon]

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1132432

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/60397753-the-gazillionaire-and-the-virgin

Audio (WordWooze):

https://www.amazon.com/The-Gazillionaire-and-the-Virgin/dp/B075WZS3TN/

https://www.audible.com/pd/The-Gazillionaire-and-the-Virgin-Audiobook/B075X1XN87

Excerpt (Rachel):

I decide to drive myself, and choose the BMW for its aura of unobtrusive luxury. One look at my red Lamborghini, I suspect, and Theo Moore would run away screaming. Cruising up to his attractive but unremarkable building at exactly six, I pull into one of the parking spots labeled “Visitors”. My pulse, I’m annoyed to notice, is elevated, and my cheeks feel hot. Do I look as flustered as I feel?

A quick check in the rear-view mirror reassures me. My understated make-up enlarges my eyes and shrinks my rather prominent nose. Gold-plated combs sweep my unruly curls away from my temples into a semi-elegant cascade. Matching gold earrings dangle from my earlobes almost to my bare shoulders. My strapless gown of teal satin hugs my bust and hips like it was made for me—which of course it was. I practice a confident but non-threatening smile. Good evening, Theo. I’m so glad you decided to come.

The minutes tick by, but there’s no sign of him. Should I climb up to his door and ring? Or wait for him to work up the courage to come out by himself? Does he realize I’ve arrived? Is he watching out his window?  Or cowering in his room?

I get more annoyed by the second. I am considering honking the horn, which I know will embarrass him, when he appears on the second floor landing. I recognize him by his height and bulk. Otherwise, he’s transformed.

In the custom tailored tuxedo, he’s distinguished and elegant. The sleek black trousers cling to what are obviously powerful, muscular legs. The jacket highlights his broad shoulders and trim waist. Not fat, oh no! He moves with unexpected grace, as if the formal clothing bestowed a sort of gravitas to subdue his usual gawkiness. With his dark hair slicked back from his forehead, he looks like some international man of mystery. The spectacles just heighten the impression of intelligence and sophistication.

Holding the rail of the gallery that runs along the second floor, he scans the parking area.

“Over here, Theo,” I call out of the open window.

He jumps at the sound of my voice. I think he’s about to bolt, to flee back into his condo and slam the door. I can practically see the struggle going on in his body. I hold my breath, waiting for the outcome. Finally he raises his hand in a feeble wave, and fumbles his way down the stairs. The strong, self-assured man of a few moments earlier has vanished. But I remember him. That’s the Theo Moore I need to cultivate.

He makes it to the car. I press the auto-release and the door swings open. “Hi, Theo. Come on, get in. We’re running somewhat late.”

He ducks his head, folds his long limbs and maneuvers his massive body onto the leather upholstery. After fastening his seat belt, he focuses his attention on the blinking, teak-inlaid instrument panel. He neither greets me nor apologizes.

With a shrug, I trigger the ignition and back out onto the road. “You look fantastic, by the way.”

“I feel ridiculous. Like some performer in a circus. Or maybe a trained seal.”

“I’m sorry you’re uncomfortable.” I swing the car out of his complex onto El Camino Real. “In a way, I guess this is a kind of performance. The tux really looks great on you, though. You’re going to impress the donors. And that’s what’s important, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so.”  He slumps into the bucket seat, sulking.

With a sigh, I address myself to the task of driving. It’s not far from Palo Alto to Mountain View, but the Saturday evening traffic is insane. Is it any wonder I prefer Santa Cruz?  If Theo doesn’t feel like making conversation, that’s fine. I won’t be distracted.

A traffic light turns red just as I’m about to slide through. “Oh, damn!” I glance over at my passenger, embarrassed by my lack of patience. “Sorry. But I wanted to get there early enough to greet the first guests.”

I’m surprised to discover that Theo’s staring at me.

“You look beautiful,” he says, his voice low and earnest.

“Um—what?” I gun the engine as the light flashes green, bolting ahead of the other vehicles.

“Your hair. Your dress. The color suits you. It makes your skin look like polished ivory.”

Huh? “Ah—thank you, Theo. I guess we’ll make an attractive couple. Never hurts when you’re pitching to the beautiful people, right?” I force out a chuckle.

He does not respond. Theo Moore really doesn’t really understand the dynamics of polite conversation.

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, http://kaylalords.com/2016/02/the-gazillionaire-and-the-virgin-lisabetsarai/

Accolades for Lisabet Sarai:

“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

“I’ve always been a fan—Lisabet 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.

Lisabet Sarai

More 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!:

Lisabet’s Fantasy Factory (website): http://www.lisabetsarai.com

Beyond Romance (blog): http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lisabet-sarai?list=author_books

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