{"id":3601,"date":"2022-01-31T21:01:00","date_gmt":"2022-02-01T05:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/?p=3601"},"modified":"2022-01-27T08:43:32","modified_gmt":"2022-01-27T16:43:32","slug":"99-cents-lisabet-sarai-at-the-margins-of-madness","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/2022\/01\/31\/99-cents-lisabet-sarai-at-the-margins-of-madness\/","title":{"rendered":"Hurry! 99 Cents…for now. From Lisabet Sarai: At the Margins of Madness"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Both power and love can lead to madness<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Blurb<\/strong> MM Paranormal erotic romance (Five flames):

Nineteen year old Kyle sees visions of disasters, visions that tear his world apart. Everyone assumes that he is schizophrenic, but Rob, the cop who picks him up off the street, knows better.

Rob’s own experience has taught him that psychic powers are real, and potentially devastating. Since his telepathic sister’s brutal murder, Rob wants nothing to do with “gifted” individuals like Kyle. Yet he can’t deny his attraction to the beautiful, tortured young man \u2013 an attraction that appears to be mutual.

When a brilliant, sadistic practitioner of the black arts lures Kyle into his clutches, Rob faces the possibility that once again he may lose the person he loves most to the forces of darkness.

Note: This novel was previously published by Totally Bound under the title Necessary Madness. It has been revised and reformatted for this edition.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Buy links:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kinky Literature: https:\/\/www.kinkyliterature.com\/book\/917-at-the-margins-of-madness-a-tale-of-power-and-love\/<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Amazon US: https:\/\/www.amazon.com\/dp\/B09QQG683R\/<\/a>

Amazon UK: https:\/\/www.amazon.co.uk\/dp\/B09QQG683R\/<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Barnes & Noble: https:\/\/www.barnesandnoble.com\/w\/at-the-margins-of-madness-lisabet-sarai\/1140911192?ean=2940165754531<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Smashwords: https:\/\/www.smashwords.com\/books\/view\/1127718<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kobo: https:\/\/www.kobo.com\/us\/en\/ebook\/at-the-margins-of-madness-a-tale-of-power-and-love<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Add on Goodreads: https:\/\/www.goodreads.com\/book\/show\/60179575-at-the-margins-of-madness<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Online excerpt (X-rated)<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

https:\/\/lisabetsarai.blogspot.com\/2022\/01\/sizzling-sunday-new-mm-paranormal.html<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n


Introduction:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Valley of Stories<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Near the center of Massachusetts, the huge, butterfly-shaped Quabbin Reservoir practically divides the state in two. Constructed in the nineteen thirties to satisfy the thirst of the Boston metropolitan area, Quabbin figuratively divided the state as well, pitting the rural inhabitants of the Swift River Valley against the city dwellers in the state capitol. Four towns – Dana, Enfield, Greenwich and Prescott – were drowned by Quabbin’s advancing waters. The houses of their inhabitants were dismantled and relocated on higher ground. Bodies were exhumed from their graves and reburied elsewhere. Forests were leveled in order to reduce the amount of degrading biological material that would pollute the reservoir. The land that had belonged to Dana and its unfortunate fellows was allocated to neighboring towns.  Communities which had prospered in the valley since the seventeen hundreds ceased to exist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Needless to say, the Swift River Valley is haunted. Even if you don’t know the history, you can’t escape  the sense of mystery as you drive the winding length of Route 202, which hugs the west end of the reservoir.  The evergreens that were planted to protect the watershed have grown tall now, shadowing the road.  The woods around the man-made lake are home to bears, bald eagles, wildcats and perhaps stranger, more secret beings. On the eastern shore, overgrown dirt lanes meander through the village of Petersham, sending tentative fingers toward the still water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ghosts of the dispossessed inhabitants from the flooded towns still seem to hover in the area. They’re joined by older creatures from the earlier times when the Algonkian natives fished in the Swift River, grew their corn along the banks, and worshiped the spirits of the forest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’m not the only individual to feel that the Swift River Valley is full of supernatural stories. The movie version of Stephen King’s Dreamcatcher features the reservoir as a prominent plot element. The cult horror author H.P. Lovecraft explicitly set his now-classic tale “The Color Out of Space” in the valley before its flooding. A variety of other authors and singers have been touched by the mystery that seems to permeate the place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My MM paranormal romance At the Margins of Madness<\/em> is partially set in the Quabbin Valley. The book revolves around various psychic powers \u2013 precognition, telepathy and the like. I used to live near Quabbin, and had friends in Petersham. It seemed like a natural place for the home of a consulting witch who helps individuals with psi talents to understand and control their abilities.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Excerpt:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKitchen\u2019s here, with the door out to the back porch. Only one bathroom, I\u2019m afraid. Here\u2019s the guest room\u2014your room. The closet\u2019s empty; you\u2019re welcome to put your stuff in there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rob led Kyle through his apartment, fussing and clucking like a mother hen. He wondered for the hundredth time whether this was a mistake. The guy was just so damned beautiful. Rob could hardly bear to be close to him. Driving the few miles from St. Vincent\u2019s to his building, Rob had tried to pay attention to the road, but he couldn\u2019t help sneaking sidelong glances at the mysterious, sensual face of his companion. Kyle seemed to be brooding. Maybe he had his doubts, too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat stuff?\u201d Kyle spread his arms, a half-smile on his plump lips. \u201cEverything I own is on my back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take you over to Greendale Mall so you can pick up some new clothes. Loan you some cash until you get on your feet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat makes you think I\u2019ll ever \u2018get on my feet\u2019, Sergeant Murphy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRob. Please.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay, Rob.\u201d Kyle stared at the mostly bare maple outside the guest room window, before turning back to confront him. \u201cWhy should anything be different now?\u201d Rob heard the bitterness in his voice. \u201cI have a disease, and I don\u2019t mean the ulcer. I\u2019m cursed. I see terrible things, and I can\u2019t stop them. It\u2019s getting worse all the time. There are only two possibilities. Either I\u2019ll kill myself, or I\u2019ll truly go insane.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rob suppressed the urge to take the man in his arms. Instead, he settled for an avuncular pat on the shoulder. \u201cIt\u2019s only your imagination, Kyle. Your mind playing tricks on you. Once you understand that, maybe you can suppress the visions. Or control them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kyle sank down onto the bed. His dark eyes burnt under exquisitely arched brows. \u201cMy imagination? You know that\u2019s not true.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rob lowered himself onto the desk chair. He wished that he were somewhere else. He wanted to help Kyle, but he really didn\u2019t like where the conversation was going.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat else could it be? These spells\u2014they\u2019re like seizures. Storms of random activity in your brain that make you see things. I was there at the hospital, remember, when it hit you yesterday. You were completely out of touch, yelling about the brake, the gas tank, groaning and crying. You were delusional.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was a crash,\u201d Kyle intoned. \u201cAt least five cars. Glass everywhere. The screech of rubber, the stink of leaking gasoline, and then the explosion and the smell of charred flesh\u2026 Check the papers, Rob. Call the police station. If it hasn\u2019t happened yet, it will soon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou really believe that your hallucinations foretell the future?\u201d Rob remembered the night he\u2019d picked Kyle up, the narrowly averted catastrophe at the address Kyle had seen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI only wish that they didn\u2019t. All I ever see is violence and pain.\u201d Kyle buried his face in his hands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rob moved to the bed, next to his guest, and put his arm around the denim-clad shoulders. He couldn\u2019t help himself. \u201cLook, that\u2019s crazy. This isn\u2019t some kind of horror movie. This is real life. There\u2019s a rational explanation for everything.\u201d He was trying to convince himself as much as Kyle. He didn\u2019t want anything more to do with psychic abilities. Never again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kyle skewered him with a dark stare, hurt and angry. \u201cYou don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about. I thought that you wanted to help me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rob tensed. Kyle was so close. The funk of his old sweat rose from the worn jacket, along with a trace of disinfectant. Rob could see the pulse beating in the boy\u2019s pale temple. He felt his own blood rush to his groin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kyle trembled. His nostrils flared. His eyes gleamed. Rob felt the pull, a magnet focused on his groin. It would be so easy to gather that taut young body to his chest, to fasten his mouth on Kyle\u2019s ripe lips, to take control. But that wasn\u2019t what the man needed. Kyle needed responsible strength. Logic. Maturity. With a heroic effort, Rob smothered his fantasies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI do want to help. If I didn\u2019t, do you think I would have taken you in? I just want you to be realistic. To recognize that even when you think you\u2019re seeing future events, that\u2019s a delusion.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kyle wasn\u2019t listening, not really. Rob could see him adjust his face, hiding his emotions, shuttering those bright eyes, donning a false smile. Putting on a mask. \u201cWhatever you say, Rob. Maybe you\u2019re right. After all, most nut cases think their visions are real.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re not a \u2018nut case\u2019, Kyle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you sure?\u201d He giggled. \u201cYou can\u2019t have it both ways, you know. Either I\u2019m prescient, or I\u2019m insane.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Meet Lisabet:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"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 \u2013 more than one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre\u2014paranormal, scifi, m\u00e9nage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

You\u2019ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet\u2019s books on her website (https:\/\/www.lisabetsarai.com\/books.html<\/a>), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (https:\/\/lisabetsarai.blogspot.com<\/a>), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She\u2019s also on Goodreads<\/a>, Bookbub<\/a> and Twitter<\/a>. Join her VIP email list and get a free ebook, plus exclusive contents and other benefits: https:\/\/btn.ymlp.com\/xgjjhmhugmgh<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Blurb MM Paranormal erotic romance (Five flames): Nineteen year old Kyle sees visions of disasters, visions that tear his world apart. Everyone assumes that he is schizophrenic, but Rob, the cop who picks him up off the street, knows better. Rob’s own experience has taught him that psychic powers are real, and potentially devastating. Since … Continue reading “Hurry! 99 Cents…for now. From Lisabet Sarai: At the Margins of Madness”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5,4,6,1377,1927,1],"tags":[1967,1958,892,1959,22,1963,1960,1964,219,1966,1961,1962,119,1965],"class_list":["post-3601","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-author-information","category-book-topics","category-explicit-for-adults","category-new","category-sale","category-uncategorized","tag-age-gap-romance","tag-at-the-margins-of-madness","tag-lisabet-sarai","tag-mm-romance","tag-paranormal","tag-precognition","tag-psychic-talents","tag-quabbin-valley","tag-rituals","tag-schizophrenia","tag-sorceror","tag-telepathy","tag-witch","tag-worcester"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9wA33-W5","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3601","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3601"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3601\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3609,"href":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3601\/revisions\/3609"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3601"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3601"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3601"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}