Monday, February 27, 2012

The King's Daughter - Now Available

Fantasy Historical by Miriam Newman

“I was the King’s daughter once, so many years ago that sometimes now it is hard to remember. Before the tide of time carried away so many things, so many people, it was worth something to be the daughter of a King.
“Our little island nation of Alcinia was not rich, except for tin mines honeycombing the south. It wasn’t even hospitable. Summer was a brief affair and fall was only a short time of muted colors on the northernmost coast where my father sat his throne at the ancient Keep of Landsfel. Winter was the killing time and spring was hardly better, with frosts that could last into Fifth-Month. But from the south, where men cut thatch in a pattern like the bones of fish, to the north where rock roses spilled down cliffs to the sea, it was my own.
“One thinks such things will never change, yet all things do.
* * *
So begins the narrative memoir of Tarabenthia, born to a dying queen and an ambitious king. The throne of her island nation should be hers. Instead, her country is invaded, her parents are murdered and Tia is sent in 
chains to the land of an enemy.


Consecrated to her Goddess, sworn to the service of her country, still Tia finds love in the arms of the enemy.


In a time of war, what will she surrender in the name of love?

All digital formats and Print:

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Act of Valor - The bigger picture

Well, I’ve done it. I’ve joined the ranks of the many who will be going to see the highly anticipated movie, Act of Valor. The movie not only contains real U.S. Navy SEALs but also (according to reports) depicts actual missions that these men carried out. As with many things which have happened in the past year, this film will most certainly bring the Navy SEALs into the spotlight of not just America, but the world as a whole. This brings me to the purpose of this post, which is two-fold.

First, our Navy SEALs are but one part of our Special Operations Forces who train for every possible situation to ensure the success of their missions. Unfortunately, the sad truth is that despite these things working in their favor, anything can go wrong. These men go into situations with as much information as possible, but no mission has a script. The outcome is always unwritten and yet to be determined. Since World War II we have lost over 270 UDT and/or SEALs. That doesn’t even count the tens of thousands of lives lost in other conflicts, including the global war on terror from all our branches of military. Our United States Military is much like a giant machine which has thousands of moving parts. Those parts need to work together cohesively in order to arrive at successful outcomes. They are all important and play an integral part in defending our country. Each and every one of our men and women serving are heroes in their own right. However, since this movie highlights our Navy SEALs, I ask you all to consider that each one of these men were more than just warriors trained by our United States Navy. They were a group who lived by a creed, an ethos which ran deeper than mere words. A group that quite simply put others before themselves more times than we will ever know. In 2011 we’ve learned more about details regarding special operations. Details which in my opinion, we simply do not need to know. While it may be exciting to hear, it’s probably best for the security of our armed forces and our nation that we know very little. Quite frankly at the end of the day, the safety of the men and women of the armed forces trumps any of our desire to know how things went down.

Secondly, as more people see the movie, there will undoubtedly be a sense of awe invoked by watching these warriors in action, knowing that these are the lengths they go to, to not just defend their country, but the world. With that being said, there may undoubtedly be some characters who decide to come out of the wood work claiming that they also are SEALs. Stolen Valor has become an epidemic in the past years and even more so with the events of the past year. Social networking sites are notorious for housing many of these individuals who have decided to claim ownership of a Trident.

My personal messages regarding this are, if someone tells you they are an active SEAL, chances are they are not. To any individual who may be considering claiming that they are SEAL and in turn deciding that glory is more important than integrity, I ask you to consider the following. Graduating BUDs and receiving a Trident does not come easy. It is a symbol worn with pride by those who earn it. They answer a call to duty that some can never understand. A call that probably can’t even be put into words. They do so because it is who they are and what they believe in. With each day they put others before themselves. Part of the SEAL Ethos is that they “serve with honor, on and off the battlefield”. Please don’t disrespect the honor they uphold by trying to take advantage of the ones who do so much for all us. So much more than we can ever possibly know.

And lastly, amidst the admiration for the Navy SEALs, please remember that many have lost their lives trying to protect their brothers, this country and the world.

For those wishing to donate in honor of our SEALs here are some charities: 

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Too Hot To Handle - By Lisabet Sarai

Heat is possibly the most common metaphor for discussing sex. Many publishers rate the sexual intensity or explicitness of their books by counting flames.  Total-E-Bound, my primary publisher these days, labels its books as “sizzling”, “burning” or “melting”. “Steamy”, “scalding”, “seething”, “blazing”, “searing” - we use all sorts of fire- and heat-related words to try and capture the fundamentally indescribable experience of making love.

But why? Most of the time, sex isn't literally hot (although I do recall one incendiary coupling under the baking sun in the sand of the Colorado desert, and another in the backseat of a Chevy during a summer heat wave where my skin actually got burned by the metal door handle).  Warm, often -   nothing feels better than crawling under the covers with my honey on a frigid winter night.  Definitely sweaty – even in December!  Yet when I think back to my most cherished sexual experiences, I remember texture, tastes, scents, in the physical realm, giddy joy or breathless tension as psychological correlates. Not particularly the heat.

So where does the connection originate? Why do we seem to think that sex is like fire?

Well, I have some thoughts. Like fire, sex is powerful and difficult to control. When set loose, lust can consume everything in its path: rationality, responsibility, even morality. Just as fire is used to refine metal, burning away the impurities, sexual desire strips away our illusions and reduces us to our core, animal selves.  Sex is simultaneously nurturing and dangerous, tempting and terrifying – just like fire. And like fire, it has a sort of mystery. One can spend hours staring into the flames dancing on the hearth, fascinated by the ebb and flow of the light. I've devoted more than four decades to exploring the multitudinous facets of desire, and still can't claim to fully understand it.

I wrote a short story once (erotica, not erotic romance) about a man with a fire fetish. He's aroused by burning buildings. Eventually he turns to arson as a way to satisfy his sexual cravings. Extreme? Perhaps, but plausible enough that I could imagine the thrill as the charred beams collapsed and a fountain of sparks rained down on my naked skin.

My recent release Hot Spell  plays with the sexiness of fire. In fact, the tagline is: The flames of passion are more than a metaphor.  

The city swelters in the grip of an unseasonable heat wave. Sylvie endures her solitary urban existence for the sake of her career, but the prospect of a hot, lonely three day weekend proves unbearable and she flees east to the pine-shrouded mountains. Far more at home in nature than in the city, Sylvie doesn't mind being alone in the wilderness, but she's not the only being haunting the glades and the trails.

Aidan is fiercely attracted to the voluptuous beauty he finds sun bathing nude in a high meadow, but he must resist his overwhelming desire for the sake of her safety. The sun-bronzed man with the red-gold hair is cursed with power he knows will destroy her if they give full rein to their passion. Can Sylvie refrain from tempting him? Or will she risk being being literally consumed by love?

I think the first page maybe the hottest (literally) thing I've ever written.

He came to her in dreams first, conjured by the sweltering night.

Naked, she tossed in her sweat-damp sheets, drifting in and out of uneasy slumber. The muggy air settled on her skin, a stifling blanket she couldn’t kick off. Like a physical weight, humidity pinned her to the mattress. The feeble breeze coming through the open window offered no relief. If anything, it was warmer than the air in her bedroom, carrying with it all the heat that had been trapped in the concrete and asphalt during the day.

Her limbs were leaden. A dull ache pounded behind her forehead. When sleep overtook her, she found herself wandering barefoot on empty, baking sidewalks. The sun’s relentless glare reflected down upon her from the glass-walled towers on either side. Rivulets of perspiration trickled down her spine but failed to cool her. Her skin felt scorched, ready to crack and peel.

Then the dream changed. The oppressive brightness faded to sultry shadow. Flesh, not air, weighed upon her. Smooth, hot skin, slick with sweat, slid against her own. Strong legs tangled with hers, easing her thighs apart. Fingers of fire skittered across her breasts and danced in her sex, kindling incendiary pleasure. A scalding tongue licked its way to the hollow of her throat, then returned to seal her mouth with a steamy kiss.

He tasted of mulled wine, melted chocolate, cinnamon and cayenne. A sharp tang of ozone hung around them—the smell of summer storms. Lightning crackled wherever he touched her. She ran her hands down his muscled back to his firm, full buttocks, marveling at the power she sensed in him. Her palms tingled and stung at each contact, as though she’d been slicing chillies. The strange sensation added to the pleasure simmering in her pussy.

She pressed her fevered body against his, trapping his erect cock between them. Hard against her belly, his rigid organ felt like a bar of steel fresh from the furnace. Every searing instant made her want him more. They writhed together, sparks of scarlet and gold whirling around them. Her clit was a live ember. When he brushed his cock over the swollen nub, she burst into flames.

Climax raced through her, a conflagration of pleasure that burned but did not consume her. As she convulsed in his arms, he plunged into her depths, impaling her on a pillar of fire. Another orgasm flared—exquisite delight and unbearable heat. Then he was coming, too, in a blistering, fiery flood. She felt herself kindle, char, crumble to ash. She had no regrets.

So what do you think? Hot enough for you?

I want to thank Nicole for the chance to visit here, and to invite you to leave a comment. I'll give a free copy of Hot Spell to some lucky reader who shares his or her thoughts about sexual heat or my excerpt. Please include your email address in your comment, so I can find you if you're the winner!


A dozen years ago Lisabet Sarai experienced a serendipitous fusion of her love of writing and her fascination with sex. Since then she has published three single author short story collections and six erotic novels, including the classic RAW SILK. Dozens of her shorter works have been released as ebooks and in print anthologies. She edited the acclaimed anthologies SACRED EXCHANGE and CREAM and is currently responsible for the altruistic erotica series COMING TOGETHER PRESENTS. In addition, she reviews erotica and erotic romance for the Erotica Reades and Writers Association ( and Erotica Revealed ( websites.

Lisabet holds more degrees than anyone needs from prestigious universities who would no doubt be embarrassed by her chosen genre. She loves to travel and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her highly tolerant husband and two cosmopolitan felines. For more information on Lisabet and her writing visit Lisabet Sarai's Fantasy Factory ( or her blog Beyond Romance ( 

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Naughty After Dark Blog Hop

Welcome to the Naughty After Dark Blog Hop. There are over 100 authors participating in this Naughty event so your chances of winning are really good! I'm giving away an eBook copy of any of my current releases to 2 lucky winners. Just leave a comment below telling me which one you'd love to read and why. After you're done, stop by the Blog Hop organizers blogs here:

And below is a list of all the authors participating. Just click on their name and go directly to their site. Enjoy and have lots and lots of fun!

Monday, February 13, 2012

Cynthia Arsuaga stops by...

Cynthia Arsuaga stops by to tell us about the first installment (Cassidy's Fantasy), of her Valentine's Day short story series. Three others follow. (a story for each woman--Katie's Fantasy is next, followed by Demetra's Fantasy and finally Nataly's Fantasy). I'm sure after reading about Cassidy's Fantasy you will want to read about them all.


Come on an erotic ride in a 1976 Bubble Gum Pink Cadillac Fleetwood limousine to a mysterious nightclub where the VIP package fulfills the fantasies of four women. Mistress Claudine, the owner and hostess at Nightfall, invites each woman in for her choice of pleasure. Beware, no fantasy is beyond reach once night falls.


Accompany Cassidy Morgan as she discovers how one night with a dark and deliciously dangerous man satisfies the craving to be claimed—to experience and learn the meaning of belonging to a vampire.

With the scene over, Cassidy feels disappointment that the time ended. As the night falls into morning, a new man walks into her life. In the end, will she get more than she paid for?

Four Women, Four Fantasies. The Night Falls for One.


“Good evening ladies. My name is Mistress Claudine, your hostess and owner of Nightfall.” 

The husky, sultry voice of the woman greeting them sent tingles over Cassidy’s skin. So far, everyone they encountered tonight gave her the same reaction. Despite the chills, the mysterious Mistress of the club had to be the most attractive woman Cassidy ever met, but in an eerie kind of way. “Come with me, the table is ready. Which one of you is Miss Cassidy?”

“I’m Cassidy.”

“Are you and your friends enjoying the VIP fantasy package thus far?”

Cassidy glanced over her shoulder and spied the expression on their faces, and smiled, “Yes, very much, thank you.”

“Excellent, we aim to please and fulfill every fantasy to the fullest. Who will be the first victim?”

The four friends gasped and their eyes widened in shock at the statement.

“Oh, forgive me. Just a little fantasy humor. So, who shall I escort to their room first?

“Um, I guess me,” Cassidy said.

“Here we are, ladies. Greg is your server tonight and when I return, I’ll escort each of you to the individual rooms, beginning with Cassidy. Please enjoy your stay at Nightfall where all fantasies are fulfilled.”


With outstretched arms, she tugged his head down and pressed her lips to his cooler pair, which quickly warmed to her oral caress. An urgent, wanton tongue swiped along the seam of his mouth. The sweet taste of honey filled her senses.

Unable to keep a groan from passing her lips, his mouth opened, inviting entry. The kiss deepened. His tongue returned the proffer of invasion. She eagerly sucked him into her warmth. The delicious faint taste of the champagne still lingered and mingled with his. The quick surge of pleasure surprised her.

Breaking the embrace, he worked his magic down her body, kissing and nibbling along the way. He slid between her thighs, and wrapped his arms around her legs, pushing them apart.

Was this really happening? Ohmigod yes!
With a delicate rush of air, he began to blow gently on her pussy, sending shivers through her entire body. How long has it been since a man has done this to me? Before she could finish her thoughts, she felt the warm glide of his tongue slide up and in between the slick folds surrounding her entrance. She flinched as he held her thighs, spreading them further apart, and with firm hands, began to massage them.

Other places you can find Cynthia: 

Secret Cravings Publishing: 
No Boundaries Publishing: