Kinky Literature \u2013 https:\/\/www.kinkyliterature.com\/book\/1317-serpents-kiss\/<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Amazon US \u2013 https:\/\/www.amazon.com\/dp\/B0CL2HPVV4<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Amazon UK \u2013 https:\/\/www.amazon.co.uk\/dp\/B0CL2HPVV4<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Smashwords \u2013 https:\/\/www.smashwords.com\/books\/view\/1465062<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Barnes and Noble \u2013 https:\/\/www.barnesandnoble.com\/w\/serpents-kiss-lisabet-sarai\/1017488008?ean=2940166119209<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Kobo – https:\/\/www.kobo.com\/us\/en\/ebook\/serpent-s-kiss-26<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Apple Books – https:\/\/books.apple.com\/us\/book\/x\/id6469359665<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Add on Goodreads – https:\/\/www.goodreads.com\/book\/show\/199721219-serpent-s-kiss<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Add on BookBub – https:\/\/www.bookbub.com\/books\/serpent-s-kiss-by-lisabet-sarai-2023-10-15<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Excerpt<\/strong>: He looked far healthier than when she had seen him last. His step was firm and strong, with no indication that he was in pain. His hair cascaded over his shoulders, gleaming in the light of the rising moon. She could not see his face\u2014he was still too distant\u2014but she could smell him. Vanilla and wood-smoke\u2014the same scents that were evoked by the mysterious token she had found under the bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He was dressed in rough-woven trousers and a peasant\u2019s cotton tunic, all in white. His skin, in contrast, was a deep cocoa-brown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Elena\u2019s heart rose into her throat. He was beautiful. He was dangerous\u2014she sensed this\u2014not because of what he might do, but because of who he was. But who exactly was he?<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cJorge! Why did you run away?\u201d She gestured for him to join her on the porch. In an instant, he stood in front of her, a half-smile on his full lips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He grasped her hands. His skin was cool now, and moist like the jungle night. His fever is gone<\/em>, she thought gratefully. Joy bubbled up in her chest. She almost laughed. She had thought that she would never see him again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI had no choice. I was in grave danger. And by remaining in your clinic, I was placing you in danger.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMoving when your chest has been ripped open and is held together by nothing more than a few feeble stitches wasn\u2019t exactly the safest thing to do,\u201d she scolded. \u201cBut I\u2019m happy to see that you\u2019re so much better.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMuch better, thanks to you\u2026Elena.\u201d He squeezed her hands. Desire raced through her, sharp, irrational, irresistible. \u201cI\u2019m sorry that I had to return and place you at risk once again. But I left something behind. Something important.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI know. I have it, hidden safely away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He searched her face, apparently trying to determine how much she knew about the feather. \u201cGive it to me, then, and I\u2019ll leave you in peace.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo\u2014I don\u2019t want you to go. I\u2019ll give you the feather, but only if you promise to spend the night with me.\u201d Listening to herself, Elena was appalled. What was she saying?<\/p>\n\n\n\n She had not planned this. She was keeping the feather for him and had honestly intended to return it. But now she wanted him, with a single-mindedness that drove out all reason. She would do anything to satisfy this uncharacteristic craving. She could not let him escape again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He cupped her cheek in one of his strong brown hands. Elena nearly swooned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou don\u2019t know what you\u2019re asking. It\u2019s not possible.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI know what I want. What I need. And I won\u2019t return the feather until you give it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He removed his hand, leaving her mourning for his touch. \u201cI could force you.\u201d Though his voice was soft, his words rang with power.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGo ahead and try.\u201d Elena\u2019s words were defiant, but there were tears in her eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou don\u2019t understand what you ask. If we couple, you and I, we will open the gates of chaos.\u201d He hovered close, leaning over her, gazing into her eyes. His scent made her dizzy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI don\u2019t care. So be it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo. I dare not, Se\u00f1ora<\/em>.\u201d Taking a step backward, he glanced around the porch, as if seeking a way to push past her and enter the clinic. She moved to block the door, legs apart and hands on her hips.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Perplexity marked his handsome features. She didn\u2019t doubt he was strong enough to physically overpower her, but he seemed reluctant to do so.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cPlease.\u201d Now his voice held a note of supplication. \u201cBe reasonable, Elena.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t you want me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWhat I want does not matter. I must do my duty and refuse you. The tasks before me will be difficult enough without the distraction of love.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Love? That wasn\u2019t what she was asking for, was it? The desire that raged through her seemed as far from love as a fierce hurricane from a gentle spring shower. At the same time, her intuition told her that a single night in Jorge\u2019s arms would never be enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n\n\n\n Introductory Essay:<\/strong> What makes paranormal romance so popular? I’ve been pondering this question for a while. Readers, it seems, are happy to consume as many tales about vampires, shape shifters, ghosts and psychics as we authors can produce. You’d think that they’d get bored, but that doesn’t seem to happen. Why not?<\/p>\n\n\n\n I’ve got a theory. We’re all tempted by the dark side.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The realms of paranormal romance are vast, but most books offer characters with dual natures, torn between normal humanity and\u2015otherness. The \u201cother\u201d aspect conveys special powers\u2015unnatural strength, heightened sensation, hidden knowledge\u2015but always at a price. The characters suffer because of their power. Blood-drinkers and half-beasts are ravaged by conscience because they maim or kill. Immortals bear the weight of lonely, isolated centuries and the pain of watching mortal companions wither and die.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In my novella Fin d\u2019Espoir<\/em>, vampire Etienne de R\u00e9morcy haunts the forest around the ruined plantation of his former mistress, guilty, bitter and alone. He has sworn to never again taste human blood, but when the woman he rescues begs him to take her, he cannot resist. My prescient hero Kyle in At the Margins of Madness<\/em> can see the future but the fury of his visions drives him insane. In my new release Serpent’s Kiss,<\/em> Jorge P\u00e9likal is the incarnation of an ancient god but each time he makes love to his human mate he comes close to killing her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n In the paranormal genre, power and darkness go hand in hand. Yet somehow, we are attracted to the darkness. We brush the suffering aside; we want to feel the power. A vampire isn’t sexy when he’s fighting against his blood craving. Only when he sweeps his victim into his arms and buries his fangs in her flesh does he make us breathless and moist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n How many books have you read where the human hero or heroine willingly submits to \u201cthe change\u201d, the transformation that will make them \u201cother\u201d as well? How many characters, in contrast, manage to resist the pull of the dark side? Not many. Normal mortal life seems absurd, bland and empty after you’ve tasted power. This is especially true because sex on the dark side in erotic romance is always more intense, more extreme, transcending the limits that bind ordinary humans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Even a villain with supernatural powers tempts us. A well-written antagonist should invite enough identification that the reader can understand what moves him to do evil. The best bad guys are ambiguous, able to justify their deeds so well that they draw our sympathy. They dazzle us with their logic and their beauty, until we can’t see their wickedness. Lucifer still looks like an angel as he bargains for your soul. Stefan Aries, my villain in At the Margins of Madness<\/em>, is handsome and brilliant enough to make Kyle want him, despite his being a murderer. Jorge\u2019s evil twin Teodoro Remorros is suave, handsome, and terribly convincing as he tries to persuade Elena to abandon Jorge and the world he\u2019s trying to save.<\/p>\n\n\n\n We’re drawn to the dark side, I think, because it’s an escape. Sometimes the real world leaves us feeling so powerless\u2015we can’t help wanting the ability to take control, to bend the world to our will the way our paranormal characters do. Who wouldn’t want to leave the dirty dishes and the unpaid bills behind and slip away into the night, to slink through the shadowy streets scenting for blood or to howl, unfettered, at the moon?<\/p>\n\n\n\n The dark side calls to us in paranormal romance. Every time we open a new book, we flirt with the possibility of ecstatic surrender. <\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n About Lisabet<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n 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 over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre\u2014paranormal, scifi, m\u00e9nage, BDSM, LGBTQ, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac. <\/p>\n\n\n\n You\u2019ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet\u2019s books on her website (http:\/\/www.lisabetsarai.com\/books.html<\/a>), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http:\/\/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 here: https:\/\/btn.ymlp.com\/xgjjhmhugmgh<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Essay:<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n A Father’s Inspiration<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n My latest book, Serpent\u2019s Kiss<\/em>, is dedicated to my father. He has been gone for for nearly fifteen years, but I still feel his presence, every day. During the time since his passing, the pain of loss has healed. I\u2019ve come to understand that he’ll always be with me, in my memories and in my heart.<\/p>\n\n\n\n More than any other individual, it was my dad who inspired me to read, and to write. He had the gift of words, and passed it on to his children. I recall him reading aloud to my siblings and me, folk tales, fairy stories, adventures like Treasure Island and Robinson Crusoe. He told his own stories, too, inventing worlds and characters for our pleasure. There were the Gulkons, terrible demons who lived in the fire on the hearth, and Houligan, the god of snow. (I grew up in chilly, stormy New England.) I still remember sitting spellbound while Dad recounted his story of the hapless wizard Thomas Carl Sefney who had to touch his wand to every one of the monster’s thousand tentacles before it consumed him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Both my parents encouraged me to write. My first poems date from about third grade. During my childhood I wrote fantasies about Martians and ghosts, and plays about the Beatles and politics. In my adolescence, too shy to speak to any of my crushes, I poured out my adoration in anguished free verse. In my twenties and thirties, I wrote science fiction and first tried my hand at romance. Finally, in my forties, I actually managed to publish something (other than in my high school newspaper). My first thought was to call my father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n My dad and I shared favorite books, characters and authors. When he and I got talking about Sherlock Holmes or Frodo Baggins, H.P. Lovecraft or Edgar Allen Poe or Anne Rice, the rest of the family would roll their eyes and leave us to our obsessions. I never had any difficulty figuring out what gift to get him for his birthday or Father’s Day. There was always some book that I had seen or heard about that I knew he’d love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I never did introduce him to my erotica, though. I was so tempted to show him the pile of paperbacks with my name on the cover, the multiple volumes I had penned or edited. I wanted to autograph him a copy of my first novel, telling him how much he had contributed to my literary endeavors. I wanted him to be proud. However, I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. I recalled the way he reacted when I gave him Anne Rice’s BDSM classic The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty<\/em> – an embarrassed grin and a “oh, that’s interesting”. We didn’t discuss that book much. Though I would have welcomed the opportunity to open up to him about my own pursuits in the world of sex and sensuality, dominance and submission, I sensed that he would rather not know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I guess that there are just some things you can’t share with your parents, no matter how close you are. But at very least, I can acknowledge him as my lifelong inspiration.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/SerpentsKissBanner.jpg?resize=840%2C320&ssl=1\")
<\/figure>\n\n\n
\u201cDoctora<\/em>!\u201d The voice rose out of the darkness\u2014the voice of the man who had vanished that morning from a sealed room, leaving no trace but a brilliant, multi-colored feather. As if conjured by her thoughts, Jorge P\u00e9likal emerged from the shadows. He waited at the foot of the steps, mutely requesting her permission to ascend.<\/p>\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/Teaser1.jpg?resize=840%2C653&ssl=1\")
<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
Embracing the Shadows<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"