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Tag Archives: erotic fiction

New Release! Citadel of Women (Asian Adventures #2) by Lisabet Sarai (@lisabetsarai)

Citadel Of WomenBlurb

When her lover severs their relationship just before a long-planned trip to Angkor Wat, Doa stubbornly decides to travel alone. The marvelous sights of the ancient Khmer empire do little to heal the rift in her heart. Che, the mercurial young tour guide, senses her loneliness and offers her comfort and passion. Their connection is far more than physical – but how can two people from such different worlds share a future?

Buy Links

Amazon USAmazon UK | Smashwords |  Barnes and Noble  |  Kobo

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36672227-citadel-of-women

*****

Excerpt

A soft knocking at the door jolted me back to reality. I clutched at the sheet, my heart slamming against my ribs. Maybe whoever it was would go away. The knock came again, more insistent.

“Doa? Are you awake?”

I didn’t have to answer it. If I didn’t answer, he’d have to leave. Wouldn’t he? But was that what I wanted?

I grabbed the batik sarong I’d bought in Bangkok, wrapped it around my body and tied it over my breasts. Liquid trickled down the inside of my thighs as I padded to the door. Musk hovered in the sticky air.

I opened the door. Che stood there, barefoot, clad in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. His hair was tousled.  His eyes burned.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he murmured. He stepped into the room. I closed the door behind him.

His arms snaked around me, pulling me to his chest. He was stronger than he looked. He nuzzled my neck, licked his way up to my ear lobe and flicked at it with his tongue. A bolt of pleasure shot through me, targeting my pussy. He silenced my moan with his mouth, capturing mine in a wet kiss. I tasted the beer we’d drunk, the chilies he’d eaten.

I let my arms clasp his slender body to my riper one, accepting what he offered. My rational self warned I’d regret this. When I grasped his rigid cock through the well-worn shorts, his groan drowned out the voice of caution.

As I stroked his hardness, he unknotted my sarong. His hands sought the weight of my breasts. He cradled them, kneading my ripe flesh and tracing voluptuous circles around my nipples. Warm honey flowed through my limbs. I pulled the threadbare boxers down over his lean hips so I could sample his nakedness. A musky funk rose from his privates. His cock was long like his fingers, slender and graceful as the rest of him, and harder than the stones of the ancient city. Wrapped in skin as soft and delicate as a baby’s, it pulsed in my hand, alive with need.

*****

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai has been addicted to words all her life. 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 – nearly 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 and finally, on Twitter.  Sign up for her VIP email list here:  https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Submissive on The Fifth Floor: A Guest Post by Kay Jaybee (@kay_jaybee) #femdom #erotica #bdsm

Thank you for inviting me over today to tell you about the re-launch of The Perfect Submissive Trilogy.

It is with great excitement, that I can announce that Book One of the trilogy, The Fifth Floor (previously The Perfect Submissive) has been re-edited, recovered and re-released!

The Fifth FloorBlurb:

Hidden behind the respectable façade of the Fables Hotel in Oxfordshire, five specially adapted rooms await visitors to the fifth floor.  Here, Mrs Peters is mistress of an adult entertainment facility pandering to the kinky requirements of its guests.  When she meets Jess Sanders, she recognises the young woman’s potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist staff.  All it will take is a little education.

Under the tutelage of dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with an erotically demanding training schedule and a truly sexy exercise regime. But will she come to terms with her new career?

Meanwhile, Mrs Peters is temporarily distracted from her intimidating rule over Fables’ fifth floor by artist, Sam Wheeler – who she believes can help her in her mission to transform Jess into the perfect submissive…

*****

What is it that makes someone want to be sexually subservient to another? Why do so many people enjoy the total removal of their free will? Even within the bounds of fantasy rather than reality, the concept of becoming a sub to a more dominant partner is extremely popular.

I honestly can’t answer these questions- for one person’s reason for living a submissive lifestyle will be totally different from the next. What is important however, is that the relationship of a sub and a master or mistress has to be based on trust- without that, then the system simply does not work.

The notion that she wants to be a sub, is one that Jess Sanders has to learn come to grips with very quickly as she enters employment at the Fable’s Hotel…only will she begin to realise how important trust is…

Not long after her employment as a booking clerk at The Fables Hotel, Jess witnesses the willing subjection of fit healthy young men – the first step towards Jess becoming the submissive assistant Mrs Peters wants her to be.

*****

Crossing the threshold of the room, into which she was being firmly steered by the elbow, felt like entering another world to Jess, or rather, another time. Manoeuvred towards a plush red velvet chaise longue, her eyes darting here and there, the clerk was pointedly sat down.

Trying to ignore the light but persistent pressure of Mrs Peters cool hand against her wrist, Jess took in the reproduction William Morris wallpaper, the heavy dark-wood chest of drawers, the floor to ceiling bookshelves, and the faded brown leather wing-backed armchair. Centre stage, only a few metres from where they sat, was a huge writing desk. Its top was inlaid with a square of leather, a portion of which was covered with blotting paper, an accompanying ink well, pots of ink, and nibbed pens.

Jess was reminded of a museum she’d once visited as a child, where rooms from a variety of different houses had been re-created from a number of historical periods. This room had Victorian study written all over it.

The silence was beginning to get to her as she waited, perched rather than sat, on the unyielding seat. A faint voice of hope at the back of Jess’s head kept telling her that all this had to be some sort of practical joke, but one glance at Mrs Peters made her reconsider. She couldn’t prevent her eyes from drifting towards the study door. Whatever she had been brought here to witness surely couldn’t begin until someone came in. Twenty seconds later, each one ticked off by the hammer of Jess’s heart beating, the door swung back with a confident push.

‘Ah, Miss Sarah,’ Laura rose from her seat, a stern glare at Jess telling her not to move. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but Fables has a new member of staff, and I thought it would be a good idea to let her observe one of our sessions.’

Miss Sarah, her face powdered to an ultra-pale complexion, her curling hair pinned up in the style of a Victorian lady, her exquisite outfit historically accurate down to the small white buttons that fastened her stylish black boots, curtsied at once to her superior, ‘Of course, Mrs Peters.’

The stunningly slim woman glanced briefly at Jess, her grey gaze only lingering long enough to acknowledge the stranger, without taking in what she looked like or who she might be. Miss Sarah’s indifference, dismissing the office clerk as an unimportant factor in the room, made Jess feel smaller and more anxious than ever.

The agonising lull continued and Jess’s imagination ran riot as Miss Sarah sat at the desk in preparation for her client’s arrival. Images of pock-skinned overweight men, panting loudly as they fucked the employees of the fifth floor against the furniture made Jess’s stomach churn, but there was no way out. With a quiet determination that Mrs Peters would have been surprised to know Jess possessed, she thought, if the other members of staff here have survived this part of the tour, then so can I.

As Mrs Peters returned to both the chaise longue and her application of gentle restraint against the clerk’s arm, Jess’s body stiffened. Someone was knocking on the door. Not daring to face her employer, Jess focused on the figure that, after being granted permission to enter, walked meekly into the study.

If he hadn’t had his neck bent, his face to the floor with respect for Miss Sarah, who greeted him with a sharp ‘Good Morning’, Jess judged he would have been quite tall. And he was young; not the sweaty, aged bank manager Jess had conjured up in her head, but a man in his late 20s or early 30s, with a shaven face, short spiked ginger hair, and well built limbs. He was dressed as a servant, perhaps a stable hand. Jess was automatically reminded of Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Gulping against her dehydrated throat, unwilling to see the sex that she was sure was about to follow, the clerk dropped her eyes, only to have her chin roughly jerked upwards by Mrs Peters, ‘No, child. You will observe. You will learn.’

A patina of panic gripped Jess. Every hair on the back of her neck stood to attention. Until that moment it had been unreal. She hadn’t let go of the hope that at any minute someone was going to turn around and say, ‘OK, Jess, it’s just a joke. We play it on all the new girls. Let’s grab a coffee.’ No one did though. No one was saying anything.

The suffocating quiet of the room was broken by the newcomer, who apparently totally oblivious to his audience, was pressed to his knees by Miss Sarah. His head lowered, he was left where he was as the lady sat in the wing-backed chair, her back straight, her chin tilted, her clear eyes filled with disdain as she studied her supplicant.

Jess tried to turn her head away for a second time, but again, had it sharply wrenched back to the scene unfolding before her. She felt hot despite the general chill of the room, and wished she could take off the thick jumper that was so essential in her cold little bookings office.

Miss Sarah stood again, her abrupt movement making Jess jump and Mrs Peters smile with sardonic approval. ‘You know why I have called you here, Master Paul.’

‘Yes, my lady.’ The words were spoken with humility, but Jess heard every word. It was like being in a theatre watching someone dictating well rehearsed lines.

‘I believe I’ve had to speak to you before about your time keeping. Twice before in fact.’

The man’s eyes remained dipped, ‘Yes, my lady.’

‘I’m afraid that, as this is not the first time there has been cause to reprimand you, the punishment will be more severe this time.’ Miss Sarah didn’t sound afraid at all. Her cut-glass voice sounded triumphant as she towered over the man, who seemed to be getting smaller, as if he was shrinking against her tone.

With a rustle of the petticoats hidden beneath her bust hugging dress, Miss Sarah turned from her client and began to search through the desk drawer. Jess held her breath; positive she knew what Miss Sarah was searching for. It has to be a wooden ruler. Jess had read enough erotica to know how these scenarios went. It was almost text book.

It briefly crossed her mind that she should have been disappointed; but the hardening of her nipples told her otherwise, as did the tell-tale twitch beneath her skirt. Determined to keep her unbidden arousal secret, Jess privately admonished herself for being so susceptible.

She averted her eyes from the woman at the desk, but Jess couldn’t bring herself to turn them from the manservant. He captivated her. So strong, so masculine. What makes him want to come here and be controlled like this? Why does he pay to be humiliated?

‘It’s fascinating, isn’t it?’ Mrs Peters seemed to be reading her mind.

Jess felt goose pimples sprinkle her flesh as her employer continued to speak in whispers, her warm breath tickling Jess’s ear, ‘He’s a strong young man. He is good looking. He could dominate any girl he chose, and yet here he is, getting his rocks off by crouching in obedience before a powerful woman.’

Jess opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She didn’t know what to say; or even if she was permitted to speak. Instead she flicked her attention back to Miss Sarah, who’d finished her deliberately protracted hunt through the desk, and now held, not a ruler, but a short handled white whip.

*****

You can find out what happens next by buying The Fifth Floor from…

Amazon (universal link)Barnes & Noble | iBooksKoboSmashwords

*****

Bio-

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO

Kay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee has over 200 erotica publications including, The Fifth Floor – Book 1 of The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (KJ Press, 2017) , The Collector (KDP, 2016), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 Nights Press, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 Nights Press, 2013).

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

You can follow Kay on –

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook –http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

Kay also writes contemporary romance and children’s picture books as Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk  and historical fiction as Jennifer Ash www.jenniferash.co.uk

Not Exactly Romance – A Guest Post by Lisabet Sarai (@lisabetsarai) #bdsm #eroticromance

My new release, Miranda’s Masks, focuses on the developing love between my heroine Miranda and her colleague Mark. It ends with a marriage and a honeymoon. Nevertheless, the book is not exactly romance, at least according to the “rules” of that genre.

Over the course of the book, both Mark and Miranda have sexual adventures with a variety of other people. At first, Miranda’s sexual encounters are deliberately anonymous. Deceived and abandoned by her first lover, Miranda finds that her libido shuts down when she’s with someone she knows and likes. Even after Mark has won her trust, though, the two of them continue behaving in ways most romance couples wouldn’t. They swap partners with Miranda’s best friend and her fiancé, for example. They go cruising together at a gay bar. Both have an experimental streak when it comes to sex. That’s part of what draws them to one another.

I guess it would be accurate to call Miranda’s Masks “romantic erotica”. If you expect sexual fidelity from your characters, don’t bother with this book. On the other hand, if you’re looking for erotic thrills in the context of a loving relationship, this novel may be just perfect.

*****

Miranda's MasksBlurb

Betrayed and abandoned by her first lover, shy and studious Miranda Cahill freezes in response to any sexual attention from someone she knows and likes.

During the day, she works diligently on her doctoral thesis. At night, she finds herself drawn into increasingly extreme sexual encounters with strangers. Public coupling, multiple partners, age play, spankings, bondage, lesbian lust—each experience reveals new dimensions of her depravity. Her anonymous secret life begins to take over when she discovers that the masked seducer she meets in a sex club and the charismatic young professor courting her are the same man.

Dickens scholar Mark Anderson seems like an affable, uncomplicated Midwesterner, but he has hidden depths, myriad talents, and an unlimited appetite for erotic variety. With Mark as her guide,  Miranda gradually comes to understand and accept the intricacy of her own desires, as well as to trust her heart.

Note: This novel was previously published under the title Incognito. It has been expanded, revised and reformatted for this release.

Buy Links

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077J37RW6

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B077J37RW6

Barnes & Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mirandas-masks-lisabet-sarai/1127499525?ean=2940158774584

Add to your Goodreads TBR list!  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36622764-miranda-s-masks

*****

Excerpt:

The room was luxurious and formal, all brocade drapes, oriental carpets, crystal sconces on the walls. Miranda hesitated on the threshold. The weight of Big Daddy’s hand on her shoulder spurred her to enter.

An oversized bed piled high with fringed cushions dominated the room. Miranda’s stomach flipped when she saw it. However, Big Daddy did not steer her toward the bed, but rather, to the wing chair and ottoman arranged by the window. He settled in the armchair and motioned for her to sit at his feet. Without thinking, she crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap.

“Now, Lucy, you must be honest with me. You must tell me about these thoughts and feelings which disturb you so much.”

Miranda swallowed nervously. It was remarkable, but she felt guilty and embarrassed. “Well, it happens mostly at night. When I lie in bed, feeling the cotton sheets drift softly over my body. Even through my pajamas, I can feel them, as if someone was stroking me. I get all tingly and strange, and then I start imagining things, remembering things…”

Big Daddy leaned forward, a gleam in his intelligent brown eyes. “What sort of things, Lucy? Don’t be afraid—you can tell me.”

“That time in school, when my gym suit ripped. All the boys saw my panties, but later, I wished that I had not been wearing any underwear.” Miranda was amazed at herself. Where were these stories coming from? They felt real; it was almost as if she could really recall the incident.

Her companion gave a little tsk, but encouraged her to continue.

“Then there was that afternoon, when Madeline and I took a shower together. She wanted to touch my breasts, and I let her. She made me touch hers.”

“Made you? Can you honestly tell me that you didn’t want to?”

Miranda blushed, astonished at her reactions to her own crazy stories. “No, Big Daddy. I wanted to touch her, I admit. Afterward, I remembered and wished that I had touched her in other places.”

“Where? What other places?”

Miranda stared down at her patent-leather shoes. “You know, Big Daddy. I can’t say it.”

“Hmm. Is that all?”

“No,” said Miranda. “There’s more. The thing that I remember most is the time when I watched you. It was years ago, but I still remember, and when I do, I get all hot and itchy.” Her companion was silent and attentive. “I stood behind the bathroom door. You didn’t know I was there, but I saw you. I saw your thing. You stood in front of the toilet, with your hands on your thing, jerking it back and forth. Then after a while, you yelled and were quiet. Then I saw you pee, a long yellow stream arcing into the toilet. When I remember that, that’s the worst. There’s this strange feeling between my legs, as if I needed to go to the bathroom myself. But when I try, I can’t. There is just this awful tight, burning feeling that won’t go away.”

Miranda could not believe her own imagination. She knew that this had never happened, that this was pure fabrication. Yet the mingled shame and excitement were as real as the caress of the brocaded upholstery against the backs of her bare legs.

“You watched me masturbate! What a nasty girl you are, Lucy! You pretend to be so good and obedient, but you have a dirty, dirty mind!”

Miranda hung her head. “Yes, Big Daddy. I know.”

“Do you touch yourself when you have these feelings?” he interrogated, leaning forward in his chair. Miranda was suddenly frightened.

“No, never. I want to, but I don’t.”

“Honesty, Lucy, honesty.”

“Well—sometimes I stuff a pillow between my legs. I can’t help it, I have to do something. But I never use my hands…”

Big Daddy sat back in the chair and stroked his beard. Miranda’s heart beat ridiculously fast. “Lucy, you have been exceptionally naughty. Spying on me when I am engaged in my private pursuits! You look so sweet and innocent, but you have the makings of a little slut.”

“No, Big Daddy, I’m good most of the time. It’s only at night, in the summer…”

“Over my knee,” the distinguished gentleman barked. “Now.”

“Daddy, please…”

“You know that I am only doing this for your own good. I get no pleasure from chastising you.”

Like hell you don’t, thought Miranda, but she meekly obeyed his order.

*****

About Lisabet

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.

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 and finally, on Twitter.

Girls Will Be Girls Just 99c for a Limited Time! #lesfic #99c #sale #lesbian #erotica

Hi everyone,

Just a quick note to let you know that for a limited time only, my lesbian erotica collection, Girls Will Be Girls, is just 99c/p! As I write this post, the price change has been applied to Amazon, iBooks and Kobo, but hasn’t yet filtered through to Barnes & Noble, so PLEASE do check before you click there if that’s where you usually buy your books. Hopefully the discount will have applied by the time you read this blog post – the publisher is on the case.

Here’s a bit about the book:

Six sexy Sapphic tales from the pen of popular lesbian erotica author, Lucy Felthouse.

Christmas cheer with colleagues, a driving disaster turned good, hot older women, girls in uniform, gorgeous gardeners and naughty fun in a changing cubicle… this collection contains a variety of erotic tales sure to tickle your fancy.

Available from: (please remember to check the price at B&N before clicking)

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Amazon DE
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo

Please do tell all your friends about this fantastic discount, and happy reading!

Lucy x

Re-release – The Sweetest Revenge #ff #lesbian #lesfic #spanking

Hi folks,

I’m delighted to announce another re-release has hit digital shelves. I received the rights back to my sexy, spanking lesbian tale, The Sweetest Revenge, and it’s got an amazing new cover courtesy of Studioenp. I hope you’ll check it out, if you didn’t read it in its previous iteration.

Here’s the blurb:

Abigail’s had a crush on Mackenzie the motorcycle courier for months, but Mackenzie doesn’t even know she exists. Nothing exists for Mackenzie, though, except for her pride and joy—her Ducati Monster.

After an unpleasant encounter, Abigail decides to get her own back on Mackenzie—in the worst possible way. Despite the pleas of her colleagues, Abigail plans to hide Mackenzie’s precious motorbike, and take the haughty so and so down a peg or two.

Naturally, when Mackenzie discovers her bike is gone, there are fireworks. It’s April 1st, so she suspects trickery rather than criminal activity, but that doesn’t mean the person responsible will be getting off lightly…

Grab your copy here: 
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

Happy Reading!
Lucy x

***

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Classic Felthouse is Now Available in Audiobook Format! #erotica #audio #audible

Hi folks,

Just a very quick note to let you know that my M/F erotica collection, Classic Felthouse: Stories from the Archive, is now available in audiobook format. The narrator is the fabulous Elizabeth Crain. Here’s the skinny:

Fancy a blast from the past? Then dip in to five short stories from the Lucy Felthouse archive. A handful of her earliest published tales have been polished up and presented to you in one seriously hot collection. Enjoy a sexy soldier, a buxom babe, erotic daydreams, filthy phone sex and a language barrier, and see where it all began for this prolific author of erotica and erotic romance.

Grab your copy:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Audible UK
Audible US
iTunes UK
iTunes US

Happy Listening!

Lucy x

Mid Week Tease: Shoving the lustful thoughts aside, I forced a smile. #MWTease

mid-week-tease-buttonHi everyone,

Welcome back to Mid Week Tease! I was away on holiday last week, but now I’m back and sharing another snippet from Unconventional. I hope you enjoy it!

UnconventionalHe took it from me with a grin and put it on the table. “I just came to see if you wanted a drink. You’ve been flat out since you got here.”

As our gazes met, it occurred to me what a damn shame it would have been if I had hit him in the face with a chair. Because it was a very nice face. Aside from the eyes—which still captivated me no end—and the mad hair, which he’d now liberated from its net, he had cheekbones to die for and luscious, expressive lips. Ones I could well imagine kissing, and much more besides.

Shoving the lustful thoughts aside, I forced a smile. “Yes, please. That would be great. I’m almost done here, actually. Give me five minutes and I’ll be with you.”

“See you in five.” He turned to head back toward the kitchen, then threw over his shoulder, “Great job, by the way.”

I didn’t respond. I’d been too busy enjoying the view of his backside as he walked away, then his words had rendered me speechless.

Grab your copy of Unconventional here: https://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/unconventional/

Don’t forget to check out all the other blogs taking part!