Brazen by Lisabet Sarai

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Blurb

Three women. Three worlds. Three erotic journeys where each salacious adventure reveals new dimensions of desire.

Incognito: By day, Miranda Cahill works diligently on her doctoral thesis. At night, she has sex with strangers—until one man strips away her mask.

Rajasthani Moon:  Voluptuous spy Cecily Harrowsmith has never failed to complete an assignment. Now, imprisoned by the perverse brothers who control rebellious Rajasthan, she risks betrayal by both her body and her heart.

Raw Silk: In the exotic City of Angels, software engineer Kate O’Neill becomes intimately involved with two very different men—a handsome and debauched member of the Thai aristocracy, and the charismatic, dominant proprietor of a sex bar.

This boxed set collects three of Lisabet Sarai’s boldest and most arousing romance novels in a single, outrageous package.

Raw. Sensual. Explicit.

Brazen.

Buy Links

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0HBNC7M63

Amazon CA: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0HBNC7M63

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0HBNC7M63

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/255943751-brazen

Add on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/brazen-by-lisabet-sarai

*****

BrazenCover 400Excerpt:

Incognito

Miranda sank back into her seat and stared at the empty rows of chairs, overwhelmed by the events of the last half hour. Her success on the panel filled her with warm pride. Finally, people would begin to take her work seriously. Then there was Lucinda Scott. Publish the diary, disguised as fiction? How tempting! Here was a strategy that would preserve Beatrice’s privacy while still sharing her insights and adventures with the world. Of course, the diary was too short for a novel. Perhaps, though, Miranda could write some additional chapters. She was confident that she could emulate the rhythm of Beatrice’s prose, and Mark did say that she had a remarkable erotic imagination.

Mark! Where was he, anyway? When last she had looked, he had been at the back of the room, but everyone was gone now. She was suddenly hollow and aching with longing for her lover.

As if in answer to her questing mind, she felt a touch on the inside of her thigh. Mark? She had the urge to look under the tablecloth, to confirm that it was he, but something held her back. A finger alternated, stroking her nylon-clad thigh, then brushing the bare skin above her stocking. The contrast was exquisite, the results electric. The finger-dance along her thighs continued. Now another hand drifted lightly over her mound, tickling her through the satin. She felt brief regret as her juices thoroughly soaked the expensive wisp of lingerie, before lust overwhelmed all other concerns.

Slumped in her chair, she spread her thighs, shamelessly offering access to her hidden partner. He responded by tracing the outline of her pubis with his fingers, along the edges of the thong where fabric met flesh. Miranda writhed. She wanted him to touch her inside the garment, to rip it off and plunge his digits into her. Still, he played with her, rubbing the slippery fabric against her clit, forcing the damp cloth up between her legs, wedging the thong into the crevice between her cheeks and rocking it back and forth over her anus.

Now she felt moist heat, delicious, melting her. His mouth hovered over her sex and he simply breathed. His hands were quiet, holding her thighs wide. There was only his mouth, his breath, and the images unrolling in her mind. She felt as though he were holding a burning candle to her clit. She saw herself staked spread-eagle on a crag, her privates baked by a tropical sun. She felt herself bathed in molten gold that pouring over her folds, filling her, gilding her. The heat swelled until she erupted against his lips, juices like lava overflowing her cavities. She whimpered as her climax seared her. Hot tongues of pleasure lapped at her satin-sheathed pussy. Flames flickered on her closed eyelids.

Dimly, she felt her garters being unhooked and her soaking panties removed. Strong arms lifted her. She felt starched linen against her buttocks. She was seated on the table. Opening her eyes at last, she found Mark standing between her legs, unzipping his fly.

*****

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, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more.

Lisabet lives in Southeast Asia with her husband of over forty years and several rescue cats, where she pursues an occupation completely unrelated to her literary endeavors.

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, Twitter. AND now BlueSky!  Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Not That Kind of Witch is Now Available in Danish!

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Hi everyone,

I’m delighted to announce that, thanks to the superb team at Sweetheart Ink, Not That Kind of Witch is now available in Danish! So, for any of you who prefer to read in Danish, or if you know someone who does, please let them know that Ikke den slags heks is on shelves now in paperback and eBook formats!

Here’s the blurb:

Kan kærligheden få Willow til at give slip på sin frygt og begynde at leve igen, eller vil angsten få overtaget i sidste ende?

Da Willow Green mister sit job under coronapandemien, trækker hun sig tilbage fra verden. Hun arbejder hjemmefra, forlader aldrig grunden og holder omverdenen på afstand. Hendes bedstemor er særligt sårbar, og Willow gør alt for at beskytte hende.

Heldigvis har hun både gåpåmod og generationers uvurderlige viden i ryggen. Som efterkommer af en lang linje naturhekse skaber hun sit eget lille urteunivers og en ny indtægt. Men angsten holder hende i et jerngreb. Tanken om at lukke verden – og dermed virussen – ind er umulig.

Indtil Joe Lane banker på.

Det attraktive pakkebud vækker noget i hende, hun troede var lukket ned. Han har sine egne skeletter i skabet, men også en ro og varme, der får hendes forsvar til at vakle. Spørgsmålet er blot, om Willow tør gøre det, hun frygter allermest: lukke et andet menneske ind.

”Ikke den slags heks” er en hed standalone romance om frygt, håb og modet til at turde elske igen.

Grab your copy here: Sweetheart Ink | Mofibo/Storytel

Happy Reading!
Lucy x

Guest Post on Spicy Scenes by Jenna Jaxon

tour banner As Long As You're Mine

Well, this topic seems rather apropos, as almost all of my books are spicy at about the 4-4.5 level (I guess depending on who’s reading it). And I have to say, As Long As You’re Mine may have a record number of love/sex scenes of all the books I’ve written, mainly because in the very first chapter my hero and heroine are in bed together. So they literally have the entire novel to have sex in. I even toyed with the idea of taking one of the love scenes out, even though I liked it a lot, because I thought there might be too much sex. But in the end, I left it in and I think readers will find it one of the sexier of the H/h’s encounters.

This doesn’t always happen in my books, however. In my second novel, Only Scandal Will Do, it’s an enemies-to-lovers trope, and the heroine hates the hero so much they don’t actually share a bed until three-quarters of the way through the book. And I believe, depending on the characters and the circumstances, the slow burn can be every bit as thrilling and sexy as the actual sex scenes. Because we all know sex just for sex’s sake doesn’t make for a very satisfying romance. The characters have to develop their relationship and use the sex scenes to further the relationship, not just for titillation. And in As Long As You’re Mine, the characters actually use sex as a way to get to know one another, to show that they care for one another, and have a good time into the bargain.

Now as to just how hot historical romance sex scenes can get, well, I can tell you mine do get pretty steamy. The language isn’t contemporary, but there are period appropriate words that leave the reader with nothing to the imagination about what’s going on on the page and in the bed—or chair—or table. In one of my books the couple got inventive with a jar of honeyed pears!

Just remember, there’s nothing new under the sun, including sexual positions, sexual preferences, and sexual prowess. Historically, gentlemen were told by physicians that in order for a woman to conceive she had to have an orgasm, so they were often very diligent about pleasing their wives.

And historical romance authors take full advantage of that piece of medical advice!

*****

BookCover As Long As You're Mine FinalBLURB:

A scandalous mistake…or a wicked way to happiness?

Hoping to compromise herself, Lady Amantha Easton sneaks into the bedroom of her would-be suitor only to find a total stranger there—a totally handsome, charming stranger to be sure—but not at all the man she plans to marry. She leaves his room with her reputation intact—barely—only to fall victim to the gentleman’s charms in a public place. Now Amantha must face the fate she’s tried to avoid—marriage to a man who will never love her.

All Rafael Beauregard wanted was a warm bed and a good night’s sleep…but what he got was an unexpected romp with a beautiful vixen and a fiery kiss that left him wanting more. An excellent trade, except now he’s got to marry Lady Amantha, one of the most willful women he’s ever met. So Rafe’s challenge is to persuade her that marriage to him might be the best thing for them both…once he convinces himself.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GS54DPYB/

*****

Excerpt:

“What is it, love? What’s wrong?”

“Father,” was all she could get out at first.

“You went to see him? He didn’t agree to grant your request?”

Amantha nodded and sniffed. Rafe reached into his breast pocket and produced a handkerchief. “He g…gave me a choice. Marry you or…or be put in p…prison.”

“Prison!” What kind of monster would threaten his own daughter with prison? And what kind of power did such a man wield? “He’s going to send you to Newgate? On whose authority?”

“His own authority.” She wiped her eyes and nose then clenched the square of linen in her fist. “And not Newgate. Not a real prison. But he will turn his northernmost property, Woolston Lodge in Northumberland, into a prison. He will send me there tomorrow, with no clothes and no friends, just a jailor and armed guards for the rest of my life.” Tears threatened again and Rafe pulled her head back to his shoulder.

“Shh, love. Don’t think about it. We won’t let that happen, will we?” She shook her head and nestled deeper. The small movement of acquiescence shot straight to his heart. He could fix this. “I am afraid, though, that I’m going to have to change my mind about our marriage.”

She sat bolt upright, terror widening her eyes as she stared at him.

Damn. He hadn’t meant to frighten her even more. His own fault for drinking that second brandy.

“Shhh.” He ran a gentle thumb down her delicate jaw line, cupping her chin and pulling her face close enough that she had to look into his eyes. “Amantha, I just meant I now want to marry you more than anything in the world.”

*****

author imageAUTHOR Bio and Links:

Jenna Jaxon is a best-selling author of historical romance, writing in a variety of time periods because she believes that passion is timeless. She has been reading and writing historical romance since she was a teenager. A romantic herself, Jenna has always loved a dark side to the genre, a twist, suspense, a surprise. She tries to incorporate all these elements into her own stories.

She lives in Virginia with her family and a small menagerie of pets–including Olive, an almost silent cat, Earl Grey, a very curious bunny, and a Shar-pei mix dog named Frenchie.

Blog:  http://www.jennajaxon.com/

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/jenna.jaxon

Instagram: @passionistimeless

Bluesky:   jennajaxon1.bsky.social

Threads: https://www.threads.net/@passionistimeless

TicTok: @jennajaxon1

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jenna-jaxon

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Jenna-Jaxon/author/B005CHPBD2

Twitter/X: @1jennajaxon

*****

GIVEAWAY!

Jenna Jaxon will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Be sure to follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here.

New Release: Polar Night – A Contemporary RH/WhyChoose Romance

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Hi everyone,

I cannot begin to tell you how thrilled I am to be writing this. Finally, FINALLY, after over a year, I am releasing another book! For various reasons, personal and professional, this book has taken an age to write. But, after a ton of hard work, I am delighted to be launching it today. Polar Night has truly been a labour of love, and I really hope you’ll check it out. It’s a contemporary reverse harem/whychoose romance with very spicy scenes. It will only be available on Amazon for the first 90 days, and for this time it will also be in Kindle Unlimited. So for those of you who subscribe, please ensure you add it to your list ASAP, because after the 90 days are up, it will be removed from the KU platform and I will be uploading to all the other retailers. I don’t want you to miss out! And now here’s the skinny:

Blurb:

Following her divorce, Amber leaves everything she knows and loves behind to take a job in Finland. But will her Arctic adventure heal her, or break her?

Amber Lowe has had enough. Her divorce might have been amicable, but the aftermath certainly hasn’t been. The stares and sympathy from the other residents in her small Derbyshire town are driving Amber crazy. Her ex, Jesse, moving on at the speed of light hasn’t helped – and the final nail in the coffin is discovering his new partner is pregnant.

Taking matters into her own hands, Amber hits up job websites and discovers something that’s perfect for her, but so far out of her comfort zone it’s ridiculous. She soon finds herself deep inside the Arctic Circle with a new job, a new home, new bosses, and a bunch of new colleagues.

Amber’s not looking for romantic entanglements – casual or otherwise. But it seems the universe has other ideas. Has she got what it takes to embrace new possibilities, or is her adventure over before it’s barely begun?

Buy on Amazon, or read in KU: https://books2read.com/polarnight

Add to your Goodreads page: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/244948194-polar-night

Add to BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/polar-night-a-contemporary-reverse-harem-romance-novel-by-lucy-felthouse

*****

Excerpt:

Prologue

Amber Lowe tilted her head back to enjoy the sun’s rays on her face as she walked arm in arm with her mother down the pedestrianised high street of their pretty Derbyshire market town. It was a busy Saturday afternoon in early September, and the two women had been shopping for cards and presents for Amber’s father, Nigel, and her brother, David, who both had birthdays in October. It had been a successful trip, punctuated by a leisurely and very enjoyable lunch stop in their favourite cafe, and now they were headed home. Amber let out a contented sigh.

Her mother, Elaine, tensed, squeezing Amber’s arm into her side as she did so. “You all right, love?”

She righted her head and looked to her mother with a smile. “I’m fine, Mum. Just enjoying the warm sun on my face. Soaking up some vitamin D. Who knows how much more of this glorious weather we’ll get? It’s almost October, remember?”

“How could I forget?” Elaine replied, lifting the hand carrying the shopping bags and giving it a jiggle, before rolling her eyes. “The curse of the two most important men in your life having birthdays within days of each other. Inconsiderate of them, if you ask me.”

Amber raised her eyebrows. “I don’t mean to be indelicate, Mum, but while you had nothing whatsoever to do with when Dad’s birthday is, you are at least fifty percent responsible for when David’s is.”

“I resent that comment,” Elaine said with a sniff and a toss of her head. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m only about twenty percent responsible. The other thirty I lay firmly at the door of the bottle of white wine your dad and I quaffed on our date night while you were staying with your gran and grandad. The first one we’d shared since you were born, I might add. I’m just glad I can remember what happened afterwards. It was glorious.” Her eyes lost focus, and a dreamy expression took over her face.

“Ugh, Mum!” Amber pulled her arm out from her mother’s, wrinkling her nose. “Too much information. Way too much. I do not want to know about yours and Dad’s sex life, and my brother’s conception.”

Elaine snickered and slipped her arm back into Amber’s. “Oh, don’t be such a prude. You’re a grown woman. Anyway, you’re the one who started being ‘indelicate’, as you put it. You know perfectly well how babies are m—” She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening as something behind Amber caught her attention. “Oh!” she said, so loudly and exaggeratedly that Amber immediately smelt a rat. “Come on, love, I just remembered—”

“What is it, Mum?” She tried to turn around to see what had prompted such an extreme reaction, but Elaine clamped her arm fiercely and all but dragged her down the street. “Ow! Hey, what the—? Mum! What are you doing, you crazy woman? Let go!” She stood her ground, despite being aware they were probably making a bit of a scene.

“No.” Her mother held on and continued trying to propel Amber in the direction of the car park, succeeding only in moving the two of them a handful of steps. People were beginning to stare, and understandably so. “Trust me, you don’t need to see this.”

“See what?” she asked, but even as the words exited her mouth, her brain cottoned on to the likely culprit of her mother’s sudden panic and resultant hurry to leave. She groaned, and her stomach lurched uncomfortably. “Oh, for Christ’s sake. It’s him, isn’t it?”

Elaine didn’t need to say a word. Her flushed cheeks and the way she’d pinched her bottom lip between her teeth told Amber everything she needed to know.

Amber swallowed and pushed out her next words with considerable effort, her entire body starting to go lax as defeat seeped through her. “A-and her?”

Her mother nodded. The fact her daughter now knew the thing she’d been trying to hide didn’t seem to have lessened her concern any. Anxiety was etched deeply into the features so similar to her own. “Afraid so, love. Come on, we’re almost at the car park. Let’s go back to mine and we’ll have a nice cup of tea. I’ve got some lovely lemon drizzle cake, too.”

Amber didn’t move. “Ugh, I hate this, Mum. I’m twenty-eight years old, and being protected from seeing my ex-husband in our local town.” She sighed, most definitely not contentedly this time, her heart rate increasing as defeat turned to irritation. “It’s ridiculous. We split up so amicably to begin with, it wouldn’t have been that much of a problem to bump into him, especially once we got all the uncomfortable legalities out of the way. But the moment he shacked up with her, despite insisting there was no one else involved in his reasons for wanting to separate, everything changed.”

Elaine’s eyes swum with empathy, even as she continued to edge them along the road. “I know, love. It’s awful.”

“People went from sympathetic to full-on pitying. Like I was an idiot for not realising there was someone else.”

“We don’t know there was,” her mother put in, shaking her head“Not at the time.”

“No, not for sure. But come on, it was so quick. How do you make the transition from a long-term relationship and marriage to meeting someone new and getting into another relationship just like that?” She snapped her fingers on the ‘that’. “Either way, it makes me look like a complete moron. A doormat. I’m so sick of the sad faces, the stares, the questions. We’ve been separated for well over a year, officially divorced for however many months. I bet they don’t ask him about me. He’s allowed to move on, so why aren’t I? Why do I have to keep being reminded of my failed marriage, as though it’s the only thing that defines me as a person? Is it because I don’t have anyone else—not that I want anyone—or because I’m a woman? Bloody double standards.”

Elaine’s gaze darted over Amber’s shoulder, then back to her face. The earlier flush in the older woman’s cheeks had all but leached away, and she was now looking decidedly pale.

The cold hand of dread took Amber’s stomach in its grip. Oh God. That can’t be good. “W-what is it, Mum?” She stumbled, warring with the urge to look behind her and see precisely what was causing her mother’s reaction.

Elaine swallowed hard, closed her eyes for a second, then said, “It gets worse.”

Amber’s heart skipped a beat. “Worse? How the hell does it get worse?”

The words came out on a pained whisper. “She’s pregnant.”

*

I really hope you’ll check this book out. Please tell all your RH/whychoose-loving friends. Spread the word. It’s been so long since I released a book, people have probably forgotten about me – so any help you can give is so, so useful (and I’m incredibly grateful). Oh, and for those of you who prefer paperback – it’s coming. I’m working on it and will get it sorted as soon as I possibly can. Bear with me!

Happy Reading!
Lucy x