Charity Sunday: Shriners Hospitals for Children

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. Thanks for your help and your participation!

This month’s charity is one near and dear to my heart: the Shriners Hospitals for Children. https://www.shrinershospitalsforchildren.org/shc Charity Navigator has awarded Shriners Hospitals “with its prestigious Four Star Charity award. Such distinction recognizes Shriners Hospitals for Children for its sound fiscal management and commitment to accountability and transparency.”

When I was ten-months-old, a polio epidemic struck Sioux City, Iowa and the surrounding area. Polio was not at all uncommon in the early 1950s, but this epidemic was horrible. I had been walking at nine-months. Then one morning I was crying in my crib and when Mom came to get me, I couldn’t stand. We have never figured out why I contracted the disease and no one else in my family did.

While my case of polio wasn’t that severe. I didn’t die and plenty of people during that epidemic did. If not for the Shriners Hospitals for Crippled Children (as it was known then), however, I might never have danced or run or played hopscotch. Or walked down the aisle to the man I love. A few years ago, a girl asked why I limp, and I told her that I’d had polio. “Polio?” she said. “You must be really old!” I laughed at the time but with the incidence of polio increasing lately, it’s not so funny. Children must be vaccinated against this deadly disease or else the Shrine Hospitals will be needed again to treat the results of this terrible virus.

The Shriners Hospitals never charge a family for any medical care. When I went into the hospital for surgery, I was generally there for a a month or even two. During that time, they housed me, fed me, schooled me, entertained me, and provided all medical care, before and after surgery—all for free. Our only responsibility was to get to the hospital and home. I received the very best of care in a safe and clean environment, with the best medical staff, and I will be forever grateful.

Please leave a comment and I will make a donation to an organization for which I have lasting gratitude. Thank you!

Let’s celebrate a wedding at New Year! One Woman Only is a story of second chances and the fulfillment of true love. What better way to end one year and start the next?

As one of a set of triplets, Jonah Goodman has always stood out as the least academic—and the last one to take the world, or commitment, seriously. Thing is, that’s not really who he is. But who can he convince of that? Not his family, who see him as they always have. And maybe not his one love, the sweetheart he left behind in high school but with whom he is now sharing an erotic holiday. Will he get his second chance to prove to Kelly that he is a loving man who wants more than a sensual few days, but a real relationship with the woman he lost once and doesn’t want to lose again? With that chance and Kelly’s love, Jonah knows that a “good man” can become a better man.

Buy link:
One Woman Only is on KU

Excerpt:

“May I have this dance?”

Kelly turned at the sound of Jonah’s voice behind her. Dinner had ended. All three of the boys had given best man speeches and Eve had even given a very creditable matron of honor speech, considering she had only known Marilyn and Caleb a short time. Lots of toasts had been raised and finally the live band had struck up the music. Caleb led his bride onto the floor for a foxtrot—a dance more than half of the guests had no idea how to do, including her.

Facing Jonah she sighed inwardly at how scrumptious he looked. Sure, his face was pretty much displayed on his brothers’ heads, too, but there was something different about Jonah. His nose was just a little crooked from when Bobby Hendricks had broken it in ninth grade and his eyes held an especially bright sparkle in his eyes when he smiled. Maybe… Well, she didn’t know what caused the difference between Jonah and his brothers. Whatever it was, she had never been fooled by the so-called identical nature of the identical triplets. She’d wanted to be his girl since elementary school. Thought she would be in high school. And then forced every last thought of him from her mind from senior year on.

Until now.

“I don’t know how to foxtrot.”

He shrugged. “Who does except those over fifty?” He glanced at his folks, still alone on the dancefloor, although a few couples were wandering out to join them now. “We can pretend.”

She mentally compared standing on the sidelines alone now that Mama Rio left the party, or being held in Jonah’s arms. Smiling, Kelly held out her hands. “Just don’t step on my toes, Jonah Goodman, or there’ll be hell to pay.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Together they walked onto the dancefloor. He took her right hand in his left and placed his right hand on her waist. Fortunately for them, the music changed to a slow tempo. Kelly laid her head on Jonah’s shoulder, and he tugged her closer as they swayed to the music.

“This is nice,” he murmured.

“Yes it is,” she replied. So very nice. He smelled good. Beneath the light citrus fragrance of his aftershave was a slight whiff of pure man with maybe a twinge of motor oil or something so Jonah it brought tears to her eyes.

He rubbed a path up to her shoulder blades and gave a squeeze. “You fit me perfectly, Kelly.”

“I do?”

“You sure do. I think our hearts can feel each other beat.”

Kelly chuckled. “Smooth talker. Face to face like this our hearts are on opposite sides.”

“Hey! I’m trying to be romantic here.”

She sighed. “Keep on. It’s appreciated.”

Author Biography:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Social Media Links:

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

Charity Sunday: 1 Jar Foundation

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

For two years Jack and I lived just outside Chicago and his brother and sister-in-law still live in the city. It breaks our hearts to see the state the city is in and hear about the violence that kills so many, especially the innocents like Janari. To help a bit, we’d like to donate this Christmas season to 1 Jar Foundation (www.1jarfoundation.org) so some little kids can receive gifts. 1 Jar’s mission is: “Protecting and securing a purposeful future for our kids and all youth!” Working to ensure a safe environment for Chicago kids to grow and develop into productive adults, Janari’s mom and family have moved from tragedy to a giving, loving resource for children of all walks of life. We’re happy to give to such a worthy cause for a city we love. Please comment and help us!

Finding a Christmas Miracle by Jan Selbourne and Anne Krist

Blurb:
Two exceptional novellas featuring two men engulfed in a war no one understands or wants—Vietnam. They’re both hoping for a miracle with little expectation of finding it.

Jan Selbourne lends her award-winning writing talent to A Miracle in the Outback. Nick Saunders is in a hurry to escape a family argument and also to return to his Army base in Wagga Wagga. He doesn’t need another complication. Rachel Garth is a woman with a broken down car, a small girl, a deadly snake, and a baby on the way. She needs Nick’s help. He doesn’t know it, but he needs hers, too.

In award-winning author Anne Krist’s The Miracle of Coming Home, Army PFC Tom Stabler wins a trip to his parents’ Nebraska farm for Christmas. He needs the time away from the war. Lately, he’s been feeling lost and too alone. Trouble is, being home is almost as bad. Then Susan Swensen arrives, just as sweet and pretty as he remembers. Can Susan help him find himself again, or will it take a miracle?

This December, Finding a Christmas Miracle will be released in paperback.

Buy link:
Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Finding-Christmas-Miracle-historical-novellas-ebook/dp/B09MR8PKYT  

Excerpt:
Miracle in the Outback

Noelle’s face turned red as she let out another loud wail.

Ellie pointed to the crib. “Mum, Noelle’s crying.”

“I know, I know.” Rachel closed the sliding glass doors and pushed the hair out of her eyes.

 Another louder squeal.

 “Mummy, Noelle.”

“I can hear her, Ellie,” Rachel snapped, and went to the sink to wash her hands. “The whole bloody street can hear her.” She picked up the little noise machine and felt the wet clothing. Pulling off the soaked nappy, she reached for a clean one to wrap around the squirming baby.

“Scream, feed, and pee,” she muttered as she opened her blouse. Like an alarm clock, every three and half hours, day and night. So different from quiet, placid Ellie and she was so tired. As soon as the little piranha finished feeding, she’d give Ellie colouring pencils and toys and try to snatch an hour’s sleep.

Rachel rested her head against the back of the sofa and reached over to Ellie. “You are such a good girl, come sit next to me. When we go shopping tomorrow, I’ll buy you a present for helping me with this noisy baby.”

Twice a week, she pushed the pram, with Ellie sitting on the toddler’s seat, to the shopping centre. Always early to avoid the heat and between feeds so Noelle would, hopefully, sleep. Then wash the pile of baby clothes and nappies. She’d take a few more dollars from her stash and buy more disposables.

Fifteen minutes later, Noelle had fallen asleep against her breast. She gently laid her in the crib, turned on the fan, and lay on the sofa.

 A shrill noise jerked her awake. Blinking, she sat up and rubbed her eyes as the front doorbell shrilled again. No way was she climbing the stairs to see who it is. They can come back later when her mother was home. Probably the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Last week it was the Mormons and she’d told them where to go in very blunt language.

She lay back down and felt herself drifting off when footsteps on the side path made her sit up. Two men in suits were walking towards the sliding glass doors. They looked around the back garden before knocking.

Now alarmed, Rachel hesitated before opening the door a couple of inches. The two men produced ID badges.

“Rachel Garth?” The tall man with piercing eyes asked.

 “Yes.”

 “Detective Thomas and”—his hand flicked to the man beside him—“Detective Jones. Sydney City Police. We’d like to talk to you.”

The Miracle of Coming Home

Susan Swensen flew into the small three-bedroom house she shared with Carol Buley and Mildred Hammersmith. “I won!” she shouted. “I won, I won, I won!!”

Carol stepped out of her bedroom and into the hallway, brushing her hair and already In her blue flannel pajamas. “Won what?”

Susan dropped an envelope on the scarred coffee table and threw off her wool cape, tossing it onto the used couch dressed up in a winter slipcover. A Christmas tree displayed prominently over the center cushion. Brightly wrapped gifts beneath a midnight-blue sky scattered with stars filled out the rest of the space. This was the second year the women had used it to hide the worn arms and cushions of the sofa, and it saddened Susan somewhat that it would be the last. The three would graduate from nursing school in June and go their separate ways.

She reached to remove the pins that secured her white cap to her blonde curls and then slid the bobby pins onto the edge of the cap before placing it carefully on the table. Then she picked up the envelope and removed the letter she’d read three times already.

“Susan Swensen. This is to inform you that your submission to the Home for Christmas contest sponsored by WCHI Radio Chicago has won one of seven prizes. WCHI has confirmed that PFC Thomas J. Stabler will be transferred from Saigon, South Vietnam to Norfolk, Nebraska (via Omaha, Nebraska) on or about December 16, 1970 until December 27, 1970. The Department of Defense is relaying this information to PFC Stabler’s commanding officers and to him. WCHI is happy to be a part of this Christmas homecoming. Thank you for your heartfelt submission. Merry Christmas! John Marbury, President, WCHI Radio.”

Susan looked up at Carol with a smile that felt like it might split her face. “Tom is going to be able to come home for Christmas.”

Reviews:
“Both stories grab your attention quickly and carry you along with the fast moving plot lines! Both main characters are flawed perhaps due to the service to their country! One saves a young mother about to deliver her second baby alone in the outback. The other brings the Vietnam war home! Kudos to both ladies for their exemplary stories!” 5-star

“Two fabulous reads with relatable characters and heartwarming emotion. Both stories dealt with war but we saw the personal side of it and the way the horror impacts normal people. … I was rooting for both couples to find their Happily Ever After.

“Both novellas are stirringly heartwarming holiday romances.” 5 Stars”

“Well done, both ladies.” 5 stars

“For heart-warming Christmas romance, the two novellas in Finding a Christmas Miracle certainly fit the bill.” 5 stars

“Two wonderful books. … I enjoyed every turn of the pages. So good to feel the love Always in awe of this wonderful talent Of putting words to paper. Looking forward to the next novellas.” 5 Stars

“YOU CAN’T GO WRONG READING THESE TWO BOOKS!!” 5 Stars

Author Jan Selbourne:
Jan Selbourne was born and educated in Melbourne, Australia and her love of literature and history began as soon as she learned to read and hold a pen. After graduating from a Melbourne Business College her career began in the dusty world of ledgers and accounting, working in Victoria, Queensland and the United Kingdom. On the point of retiring, she changed course to work as secretary of a large NSW historical society. Now retired Jan is enjoying her love of travelling and literature. She has two children, a stray live in cat and lives near Maitland, New South Wales.

Author Anne Krist:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! Once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Jan author links:
Website
Twitter
Facebook
LinkedIn
Newsletter:

Anne author links:
Website
Blog
Twitter
Facebook
Goodreads
Newsletter
LinkedIn
Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas

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Charity Sunday: Special Operations Association of America

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

Imagine being an American trapped in a war-torn country and fearing there is no way out. Now imagine there is a way out. With so many Americans in Israel and Gaza looking for an escape, I am focusing this month on Special Operations Association of America. SOAA is “a voice for special operations,” and one of their current missions is to evacuate Americans from areas of the Middle East currently in conflict. “We advocate for all past, present, and future members of the Special Operations community and their families. Fighting for those who fight for us to ensure the mission success and lethality of those that bear the greater burden.” In today’s environment, SOAA is working to rescue Americans from where “…the fighting and terrorist regimes are causing havoc in the region of Israel, Palestine, the Gaza Strip and surrounding areas.” Please comment and help me support the SOAA. Thank you!

Blurb:
Dr. Margaret Amis-Hollings, professor of women’s studies at a small New Jersey college, is a woman who confidently knows who she is and what she expects of life. Until she loses her teaching position, and her well-ordered life gets turned upside down. Then, in a subtle stroke of whimsy, fate tosses her a gift in an historic home and property in Virginia.

Harboring visions of Gone With the Wind, she determines to use River Peace as a temporary reprieve from her troubles. Images of Tara quickly evaporate when she arrives to discover the reality of her inheritance, however.

River Peace has history, grace and style going for it. After only one night, Margaret discovers that it also has a ghost. She’s visited by a male spirit from the time of the War Between the States, who knows how to make a woman feel special. And very loved.

Aaron Belton meets Margaret when she first arrives in Virginia. He’s renowned for historic renovations on a multitude of properties, but he’s got a special place in his heart for River Peace. He and his family believe the property always should have belonged to them. In fact, Aaron will do almost anything to make that happen. When his passion for the house changes to a passion for the house’s owner, Aaron’s as surprised as anyone. Can he gain both, the woman and the house? To do so, he’ll have to face a spectral being.

And his own destiny.

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
“What do you mean I’m being cut?” Dr. Margaret Amis-Hollings, professor of women’s studies in the sociology department at Hardis College, shot out of her chair and stared at the dean, Sally Smith, who remained seated.

“Calm down, Margaret.”

“Calm down? Calm down? You just told me that I’ve lost my job.” Pacing, she raked her hand through the tangle of auburn hair that never seemed to stay contained in barrettes. A million things went through her mind, not the least of which was how she would make her rent, her car payment, buy food.

“Oh my God, how am I going to live?” Collapsing in the chair she’d just vaulted out of, she turned to face her friend and boss. Her expression was half despair, half anger, all shock.

“I’m so sorry, Margaret. The board has ordered more budget cuts. It hasn’t been easy. You know how we’ve had to scrimp for the past few years. Now we even have to cull courses we think aren’t serving the full interests of the students.”

“But—but…” Tears choking her throat, she couldn’t at first finish her sentence. “But the women’s studies classes? They’re vital.”

In fact, she had thought the reason for meeting with Sally was to discuss the addition of a new offering: Women Villains. She’d been so proud of the catchy and intriguing title and even had the hook for the course description. “What makes ‘Jane the Ripper,’ and how do her contributing factors differ from Jack’s?” She’d anticipated sharing the materials she’d already prepared, and hearing Sally’s happy response when she revealed the number of students who’d already indicated an interest.

She’d planned for questions of course, but anticipated support and excitement from Sally. The last thing she imagined was being let go.

Author Dee S. Knight:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! On the last Sunday of the month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Sign up for her newsletter for exclusive access to free novellas, poetry, and stuff.

Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

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Available now from Lisabet Sarai: Serpent’s Kiss!

When a woman atoning for past sins heals the human avatar of an ancient god, she’s drawn into a perilous dance of destiny and desire.
From the first, Dr. Elena Navarro senses that the wounded man she discovers outside the gate of her rural clinic is not an ordinary mortal. With his chest ripped open, Jorge Pélikal still demonstrates unnatural strength and power. Elena is irresistibly attracted to Jorge, although he warns her their coupling could open the gates of chaos and cost her life. Despite his dire predictions, they fall in love. Gradually Elena comes to understand that Jorge is a supernatural player in a cosmic drama that will determine the fate of the earth and of mankind—and that even if he triumphs in his apocalyptic struggle with his nemesis, she may lose him forever.

Note: Serpent’s Kiss was previously published by Totally Entwined. This new edition has been re-edited, revised and expanded.
Reader Advisory: This book may not be appropriate for individuals with a fear of snakes.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1317-serpents-kiss/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CL2HPVV4

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CL2HPVV4

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1465062

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/serpents-kiss-lisabet-sarai/1017488008?ean=2940166119209

Kobo  – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/serpent-s-kiss-26

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6469359665

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/199721219-serpent-s-kiss

Add on BookBub – https://www.bookbub.com/books/serpent-s-kiss-by-lisabet-sarai-2023-10-15

Excerpt:
“Doctora!” The voice rose out of the darkness—the 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 Pélikal emerged from the shadows. He waited at the foot of the steps, mutely requesting her permission to ascend.

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—he was still too distant—but she could smell him. Vanilla and wood-smoke—the same scents that were evoked by the mysterious token she had found under the bed.

He was dressed in rough-woven trousers and a peasant’s cotton tunic, all in white. His skin, in contrast, was a deep cocoa-brown.

Elena’s heart rose into her throat. He was beautiful. He was dangerous—she sensed this—not because of what he might do, but because of who he was. But who exactly was he?

“Jorge! Why did you run away?” 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.

He grasped her hands. His skin was cool now, and moist like the jungle night. His fever is gone, she thought gratefully. Joy bubbled up in her chest. She almost laughed. She had thought that she would never see him again.

“I had no choice. I was in grave danger. And by remaining in your clinic, I was placing you in danger.”

“Moving when your chest has been ripped open and is held together by nothing more than a few feeble stitches wasn’t exactly the safest thing to do,” she scolded. “But I’m happy to see that you’re so much better.”

“Much better, thanks to you…Elena.” He squeezed her hands. Desire raced through her, sharp, irrational, irresistible. “I’m sorry that I had to return and place you at risk once again. But I left something behind. Something important.”

“I know. I have it, hidden safely away.”

He searched her face, apparently trying to determine how much she knew about the feather. “Give it to me, then, and I’ll leave you in peace.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No—I don’t want you to go. I’ll give you the feather, but only if you promise to spend the night with me.” Listening to herself, Elena was appalled. What was she saying?

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.

He cupped her cheek in one of his strong brown hands. Elena nearly swooned.

“You don’t know what you’re asking. It’s not possible.”

“I know what I want. What I need. And I won’t return the feather until you give it to me.”

He removed his hand, leaving her mourning for his touch. “I could force you.” Though his voice was soft, his words rang with power.

“Go ahead and try.” Elena’s words were defiant, but there were tears in her eyes.

“You don’t understand what you ask. If we couple, you and I, we will open the gates of chaos.” He hovered close, leaning over her, gazing into her eyes. His scent made her dizzy.

“I don’t care. So be it.”

“No. I dare not, Señora.” 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.

Perplexity marked his handsome features. She didn’t doubt he was strong enough to physically overpower her, but he seemed reluctant to do so.

“Please.” Now his voice held a note of supplication. “Be reasonable, Elena.”

“Don’t you want me?”

“What 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.”

Love? That wasn’t 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’s arms would never be enough.

Introductory Essay:
Embracing the Shadows

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?

I’ve got a theory. We’re all tempted by the dark side.

The realms of paranormal romance are vast, but most books offer characters with dual natures, torn between normal humanity and―otherness. The “other” aspect conveys special powers―unnatural strength, heightened sensation, hidden knowledge―but 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.

In my novella Fin d’Espoir, vampire Etienne de Rémorcy 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 can see the future but the fury of his visions drives him insane. In my new release Serpent’s Kiss, Jorge Pélikal is the incarnation of an ancient god but each time he makes love to his human mate he comes close to killing her.

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.

How many books have you read where the human hero or heroine willingly submits to “the change”, the transformation that will make them “other” 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.

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, is handsome and brilliant enough to make Kyle want him, despite his being a murderer. Jorge’s evil twin Teodoro Remorros is suave, handsome, and terribly convincing as he tries to persuade Elena to abandon Jorge and the world he’s trying to save.

We’re drawn to the dark side, I think, because it’s an escape. Sometimes the real world leaves us feeling so powerless―we 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?

The dark side calls to us in paranormal romance. Every time we open a new book, we flirt with the possibility of ecstatic surrender.

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 – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, LGBTQ, 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, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Essay:

A Father’s Inspiration

My latest book, Serpent’s Kiss, 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’ve come to understand that he’ll always be with me, in my memories and in my heart.

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.

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.

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.

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 – 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.

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.


Charity Sunday: Fill the Needs


How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

This month I’m donating (with your comments!) to Fill the Needs to help Maui relief efforts. I had never heard of Fill the Needs until watching a news show where they were featured sending help to the Maui victims of wild fires. Here’s their short description: “What began as a community of coordinated volunteers responding to flooding in Cedar Rapids Iowa in 2008 and Southeast Louisiana in 2016 launched into Fill the Needs in 2022. We rapidly deploy our network and resources in the first fourteen days following a disaster.” They seem to do a lot of good, and currently fill those needs of the residents in Hawaii. Please comment!

Blurb:
As one of a set of triplets, Jonah Goodman has always stood out as the least academic—and the last one to take the world, or commitment, seriously. Thing is, that’s not really who he is. But who can he convince of that? Not his family, who see him as they always have. And maybe not his one love, the sweetheart he left behind in high school but with whom he is now sharing an erotic holiday. Will he get his second chance to prove to Kelly that he is a loving man who wants more than a sensual few days, but a real relationship with the woman he lost once and doesn’t want to lose again? With that chance and Kelly’s love, Jonah knows that a “good man” can become a better man.

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
. “A burger and fries, please.” Jonah had said the words, but in synch with someone else. Someone whose voice was slightly higher and a lot more feminine. He turned his head to the left and met the green gaze of the last person he wanted to see tonight. For an instant, the spit dried in his mouth and his eyes widened as his past slammed headfirst into his present. She was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and his body responded with an immediate and aching erection.

Then she opened her mouth.

“Oh hell,” Kelly said. “It’s you.”

Author Dee S. Knight:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! On the last Sunday of the month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Sign up for her newsletter for exclusive access to free novellas, poetry, and stuff.

Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

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Charity Sunday: Gary Sinise Foundation

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

This month I’m highlighting the Gary Sinise Foundation. While most of us know of Gary Sinise as an actor and musician, the role he and his foundation fills for our heroes and their families is even more phenomenal. Here is the Foundation’s mission: “…we serve our nation by honoring our defenders, veterans, first responders, their families, and those in need. We do this by creating and supporting unique programs designed to entertain, educate, inspire, strengthen, and build communities.” I hope you’ll comment and help me make a donation to this very worthwhile cause. Thanks!!

Book of the month: Burning Bridges

Blurb:
Winner! Coffee Pot Book Club awarded Burning Bridges the Gold Medal for Best Romance 2020!

Not your typical “secret baby” book! This Southern romance packs in the emotion.

Letters delivered decades late send shock waves through Sara Richards’s world. Nothing is the same, especially her memories of Paul, a man to whom she’d given her heart years before. Now, sharing her secrets and mending her mistakes of the past means putting her life back together while crossing burning bridges. It will be the hardest thing Sara’s ever done.

Buy link:
Kindle Unlimited

Excerpt:
Sara stared at the letters arranged before her in numerical order. The moment in time she and Paul shared was long ago, yet her dream had conjured his presence as though she’d just seen him. In her mind, his blue eyes darkened with passion before his lips captured hers, and he moaned his appreciation when their tongues met. She tasted his sweetness and knew the steel of his arms as he held her. How many nights had she put herself through hell reliving those memories? Too damn many.

After the concert, they’d met clandestinely on weekends, mostly at Sandbridge, where they could walk and talk undisturbed. With each meeting, stirrings built deep in Sara that pushed her to want more, but Paul insisted they restrain themselves because of her age.

Then the weekend before he shipped out, she’d planned a surprise and her life changed forever.

The kettle screeched, bringing her back to the present. Sara prepared a cup of tea and then picked up the envelope marked twenty-eight. At one time, she would have given her right arm to hold this letter. Now, curiosity and the desire for a brief escape drove her more than the passion of youth. Blind love had faded when she’d had no word to bolster her during the long weeks after the ship left.

First had come the waiting. No letters arrived, even though she wrote him daily. There were no phone calls, no notes, no anything, for days that dragged into weeks then crept into months.

Anticipation morphed into anxiety. She worried he was sick or hurt and unable to write.

One day she admitted that Paul must be afraid to write for some reason, and she feared what he would say if she did receive a letter. That their time together had been a mistake, that she was too young to be in love. That he really loved someone else and Sara had been only a stand-in while he was in Virginia. Perversely, she began to sigh with relief when she arrived home and found no word.

Now, knowing why she hadn’t received mail, what would she feel if she opened this letter and her old fears proved to be true?

“Nothing,” she murmured. “Paul’s dead. He can’t hurt me anymore.” At the very least, his letters might allow her to put his ghost to rest. For that reason alone, she had to read them.

She slid her thumb under the flap and ripped the envelope open. A single sheet held his hurried scrawl.

Author Dee S. Knight:

A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! On the last Sunday of the month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Sign up for her newsletter for exclusive access to free novellas, poetry, and stuff.

Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6
LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749
Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

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New from Lisabet Sarai, An Alien Ménage: Bodies of Light!

Love travels faster than light!

Physicist Dr. Christine Monroe signs on to the Archimedes, a sub-light-speed mission to colonize Sirius-B. Waking from stasis, she finds the ship wildly off course, the crew dead and her ship haunted by two virile aliens who appear human. As Archimedes begins to disintegrate, Christine must choose between the planet she was sent to save and the unearthly beings she’s come to cherish.

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Entwined but has been revised and updated.

BuyLinks
Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1196-bodies-of-light-an-alien-mnage-/

Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CC9QPKMB

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CC9QPKMB

Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1424481

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bodies-of-light-lisabet-sarai/1143797134?ean=2940166082862

Kobo  – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/bodies-of-light-an-alien-menage

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6451396778

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/193434594-bodies-of-light

Add on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/bodies-of-light-an-alien-menage-by-lisabet-sarai

Erotic Energy
For most of my career, I’ve been writing erotic stories which include explicit sex. Now, many people think that sex is the ultimate physical experience, that it’s all about body parts, stimulation of erogenous zones, pleasurable sensations and ultimate release. That’s not my view.

Eroticism begins in the mind. If this were not true, why would certain activities be arousing in one person’s company, boring or even aversive with someone else? When I think back over my rich and varied sexual experiences, I don’t recall the detailed sensations, but rather, the emotions I felt and the connections I enjoyed with my partners. My personal slogan tries to capture this observation: imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

When I began writing Bodies of Light, originally published in an anthology of space-themed romance, I tried, as I usually do, to put a different spin on the tale. Love scenes usually occur in the physical world, but what if you’re making love to beings without bodies? What if you encountered aliens who were pure energy? Could a human woman love such creatures? Could they return that love? And if so, how would they express it in a realm where matter was not relevant?

These are the questions I explore in Bodies of Light. Nearly a century ago, Einstein demonstrated that matter and energy were inter-convertible. An entity composed of energy could take on material form, creating a body out of the light that was his fundamental nature so that he could express physical love. Perhaps, though, this experience would be far less satisfying than connecting and exchanging unadulterated erotic energy.

This realization lies at the heart of my heroine’s journey into an unlimited universe.

Excerpt:
The alarm buzzed in Christine’s ears like an angry wasp. Electric current crackled along her skin, goading her long-dormant nerves into responsiveness. Her attempt to inhale turned into a racking cough as her body expelled the last traces of fluid from her lungs. Her eyes flickered open. Dim as it was, the blue-tinged light within the suspension pod made her head pound.

Her limbs felt weighted with lead. She tried to wiggle her fingers. They were stiff, as though encrusted with rust. The gel that cradled her gradually warmed. As it did, her joints grew more flexible. Little by little the pod thawed her long-immobile body.

As soon as she could lift her arm, she groped for the release switch. Her movements were clumsy and slow. The curved hatch over her face slid back, exposing her to the cooler air outside. Goosebumps rose on her bare skin. She pulled the tubes from her arms and pushed aside the tangle of cables strapped around her brow. When she struggled to sit up, a wave of dizziness crashed over her. She waited for the vertigo to subside.

The fog in her brain thinned a bit. She remembered where she was—the Archimedes, en route to Sirius 2. Had they arrived, then? Listening closely, she heard nothing but her own breathing.

The suspension bay was located near the center of the ship in order to protect it from possible meteor damage to the hull. There were no viewports. It hardly mattered. Christine was a physicist, not an astronomer or a pilot. Even if she could have seen the stars, she couldn’t have read them. She needed to get to the bridge, to figure out how far they were from their destination and whether it was time to revive the rest of the crew.

She swung her legs out of the coffin-like suspension capsule and took a stab at standing. Her knees buckled when she transferred her weight, leaving her slumped on the rubber-clad floor. Her head swam. When her vision cleared, she tried again. This time she managed to stay upright although she had to lean on the capsule for support.

Christine took a deep breath. She felt the strength returning gradually to her body. Her skin was slimy with residue from the nutrient gel that had nourished her inanimate form during the months —or was it years?—since the ship had departed.

At point-nine lightspeed, the maximum velocity of which the Archimedes was capable, the journey to the Sirius cluster should have taken almost thirteen years. Was that long wait really over? It had seemed like the blink of an eye. A kind of rosy haze hung in her mind, a sense of peace and well-being, but she couldn’t remember any details about her time in stasis.

She surveyed the nineteen other capsules arranged around the perimeter of the bay. She seemed to be the only one the ship had awakened. She stumbled over to the closest pod—Ravin Conter, the xenobiologist and her assigned partner—and peered in through the curved glass. She could just make out his rugged features, pale and composed.

Something wasn’t right, though. Her thoughts still disordered by the transition, it took her ten seconds to put her finger on the problem. The capsule should have been lit from within by the same low-intensity blue as her own had been. However, there was no interior illumination. Only the ambient light of the bay made Ravin’s face visible.

“Ravin!” she cried. Her voice woke hollow echoes in the metal-walled chamber. The vital sign indicators on the control panel were blank. She keyed the emergency revival sequence into the controls on the top of the pod. Nothing happened.  There was no power running to the capsule. It was dead, and so, it was obvious, was the person within.

“No!”

She stared at Ravin’s naked form, cradled in blue-green gel and twined in wires and hoses. How could he be dead? What had happened? Christine whirled around to check the next capsule—Amber Stone, ship’s doctor and the closest thing she had to a friend. Like Ravin’s, Amber’s pod was dark and unresponsive.

Fighting down her panic, Christine examined the remaining suspension capsules. All appeared to have malfunctioned. All the occupants lay in darkness within, perfectly-preserved corpses.

“No, no—please, no!” she keened, sinking to her knees in the center of the room. “Oh, please…” Her eyes burned as tears welled up for the first time in years.

She had not really been close to anyone on the Archimedes—she and Ravin had been paired solely on the basis of genetic and psychological compatibility—but she had liked and respected them all. They’d had the courage to volunteer for Earth’s first interstellar mission, to risk their lives for the future of humanity. Hell, they’d fought hard for the opportunity, beating the hundreds of other candidates. They’d endured the two years of grueling preparation. They’d climbed willingly into the suspension capsules knowing they wouldn’t emerge for years—if ever. Each had left his or her life on Earth behind, well aware that the odds of the mission succeeding were small and that, even if it did succeed, they could never return.

Now they were gone and, with them, all hope of establishing a colony. The mission was a failure—one final failure in the long series that had been her life.

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 – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, LGBTQ, 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, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

New from Lisabet Sarai! By Moonlight

I’ll come for you by moonlight – though Hell should bar the way
In her eighteen years on earth, Bess has never traveled more than twenty miles from her Devonshire village. The raven-haired innkeeper’s daughter has little time to dream of adventure as she labors from dawn to dusk to keep her abusive father satisfied.
Then, at the weekly market in Tavistock town, she meets a handsome dandy who claims her with a single stolen kiss. When the gallant gentleman makes a midnight visit to the inn, Bess learns that her new lover is none other than Kit Latour, a notorious French highwayman who has been boldly relieving the local nobility of their valuables. Well-aware of the risk she’s taking, Bess still offers herself to the seductive outlaw. Even Kit’s darkest secrets cannot quench the flames of her love.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/1183-by-moonlight-/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C99C59RY

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C99C59RY

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1413596

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/by-moonlight-lisabet-sarai/1143711659?ean=2940166073495

Kobo  – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/by-moonlight-8

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6450718058

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/180643788-by-moonlight

Add on BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/by-moonlight-by-lisabet-sarai

Excerpt:

She must have drowsed, despite her determination to remain on guard. She heard no hoof beats clattering in the inn yard, no tapping on the barred shutters, only a soft whistle under her window that had her instantly alert.

She leaned out, her hair spilling over the casement. “Kit!” she cried, heedless of anyone hearing. “You’ve come at last.”

“Well met, my fair lady.” The lithe figure below gave a little bow. “Did you doubt me?”

“No doubt, my love, only fear. Your fame has spread wide. There be many who’d delight in spilling your blood.”

“Even more after tonight, I’ll wager. I’ve had rich takings along the high road. A fat, dyspeptic earl and his broomstick wife contributed generously to my cause.”

“Lord Haverstock? Oh Kit, he has the King’s ear.” She shrank back into the shadows of her bedroom, then peered anxiously into the distance. She almost expected to see His Majesty’s troops mustering on the country lane. “Why must you take such risks?”

Kit chuckled. “Without risk, life wouldn’t be worth living.” The bandit grasped the gnarled ivy vines that clung to the old inn and clambered up to the second floor. In moments, Bess was face to face with her beloved.

What was her Kit thinking, to ride in such finery against the wealthy and powerful? The coat was burgundy velvet, worn over a pure white linen shirt with a ruffle of lace at the throat. Supple doe-skin boots rose half-way up those strong thighs. The jeweled hilt of a dagger glittered at Kit’s waist. The hungry light in the bandit’s eyes burned brighter still.

“Oh, Bess, how I’ve missed you!”  Kit seized her, crushing her against the velvet, and captured her mouth. Bess pressed her soft body against her lover’s harder form, savoring the heady mixture of familiar comfort and forbidden arousal she always felt in Kit’s arms. A brazen tongue ravaged her mouth while knowing hands slipped under her shift to palm her buttocks and pull her closer still.

“Take this off, girl, before I rip it from your limbs,” Kit gasped, tugging at the fabric that hid her flesh. “I cannot wait another instant.”

Not so long ago she’d been a bashful virgin, but there was no shyness in her now. She pulled the garment over her head and tossed it onto the chair, shaking her long hair free.  Moonlight from the window made her pale skin glow. Kit’s eyes roamed over her nakedness. She’d never felt so beautiful, or so needy.

Introductory Essays

Changing the Ending

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
~ The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43187/the-highwayman

My latest release, By Moonlight, was inspired by the poem above. This tale of tragic love and sacrifice has been a favorite of mine since I was in high school (though it does not seem to be that widely known – none of the members of my critique group were aware of it). As a teen, I though the poem was devastatingly romantic. Of course, this was before I started writing romance. I didn’t realize that to qualify as Romance with a capital R, a story needed a happy ending.

When I decided to write my own version of Noyes’ story, I knew I had to change the ending. It just wouldn’t do to have Bess and her bandit beloved perish as they do in the poem – even if they do live on as ghosts. In fact, I wanted to play with the conflict in the original, to show Bess ultimately getting the better of the men who mock her and condemn her to death.

By Moonlight deliberately borrows the atmosphere, and indeed some of the dialogue, from the Noyes poem. The first two chapters follow the source quite closely. I tried to capture the sense of danger, the terrible risk Bess takes in accepting a wanted outlaw as her partner. Then the story veers off into unexplored territory – as indeed it would have to if the lovers are to have the HEA they deserve.

About Lisabet

Lisabet Sarai

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 – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, LGBTQ, 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, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

Charity Sunday: U.S. Vets

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. Thanks for your help and your participation!

Please join me in highlighting the work done by U.S. Vets (USVets.org). We’ve all heard of the difficulties faced by veterans returning home after having been overseas, and especially of the numbers of veteran homeless. The mission of U.S. Vets is: “…the successful transition of military veterans and their families through the provision of housing, counseling, career development and comprehensive support. We believe all veterans deserve every opportunity to live with dignity and independence. It is our duty at U.S.VETS to deliver on our promise to always serve those who’ve served.” I so agree with this mission and I hope you will also!

Naval Maneuvers by Dee S. KNight

Blurb:
Men and women of the armed forces experience lust and love pretty much like everyone else. Except, well, there is that uniform. And the hard-to-resist attraction of “duty, honor, service” as a man might apply them to a woman’s pleasure. All things considered, romance among the military is a pretty sexy, compelling force for which you’d better be armed, whether weighing anchor and moving forward into desire, dropping anchor and staying put for passion, or setting a course for renewed love with anchor home. Explore the world of love and the military and see just how hot Naval Maneuvers can be.

Weighing Anchor (allowing a ship to move forward by retrieving the anchor): A professional woman sworn to avoiding all things military finds herself in love with a lieutenant commander in the Navy. Love won’t conquer all if she allows her childhood memories to eclipse future happiness.
Dropping Anchor (securing movement by dropping the anchor): Two people find (surprisingly) that they are both in the Navy and love their chosen professions—until one turns out to be an officer but not a gentleman and the other is a gentleman but not an officer.
Anchor Home (safe, smooth sailing): When two former lovers find each other after more than a decade, will a long-hidden secret threaten the course of a rekindled romance or be the cause of it?

Buy link:
Universal link: https://viewBook.at/Naval-Maneuvers

Excerpt:
Carie made her way around the side of the building and nearly ran into Todd, who lounged against the weathered wood siding. He looked better than good in a pale blue polo shirt and jeans. Top-Sider boat shoes with no socks gave him that naturally casual look that no model could successfully carry out.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he said.

“You were pretty obvious,” she said dryly.

“I knew you were smart enough to catch the hint. I just didn’t know if you’d follow it.”

How could she not? The moment she noticed him she’d remembered the feel of his being deep inside her. But that didn’t change a damn thing. They shouldn’t be here, not together.

She held her head high and tried to look down her nose at him—nearly impossible since he was taller than she, but she had perfected the attitude long before meeting Todd Baxter. Senior Chief Todd Baxter. “I wanted to walk the beach while I was here, that’s all.” Todd grinned and Carie melted inside.

“Lucky for me, I wanted to walk the beach, too,” he said. “Quite a coincidence, huh?”

She snorted in disbelief and slipped off her sandals. Brushing by him, she was glad he didn’t try to kiss her or hold her. But then she frowned. Why didn’t he try to kiss her? She’d wanted to jump his bones right there in that Norfolk hallway. They had to maintain propriety then, but here, no one would see them. What held him back? She knew an unfamiliar sense of self-doubt. Had she mistaken his feelings before?

Nonsense. Carie knew what they’d had was more than mere lust. It had been lust of stupendous proportions, far beyond a few days of burning out. Then what held him back? Knowing the military regulations preventing officers and enlisted personnel from having a relationship, you idiot.

Damn. She finally found someone she clicked with, and he had to be an enlisted man in the Navy.

The sand felt good between her toes, cool and squishy. Gulls screeched overhead and on the sand, where they snatched up sand crabs and poked around for scraps sunbathers might have left. Surf pounded to the shore and then surged forward, the sharp white of its foam sharp against the dark, wet sand before the water was absorbed. The sun beat down, making her wish she’d worn her bathing suit under her jeans and tank top so she could take a quick dip, and remembered to bring a floppy hat to shield her face.

Suddenly, something was plopped on her head. She dragged it off to look at it. SFC Baxter was stamped on the inside of a white sailor hat, brim folded down.

“I kept it for sentimental purposes when I made chief,” Todd said. When she raised her brows, he continued. “I brought it in case you came without a cover. I remember you were sensitive to the sun when we went to pick up your clothes.” He smiled. “And I know you’re quick to freckle. Not that I don’t like your freckles a great deal. Ma’am.”

She cringed at his use of “Ma’am,” though it was the proper term for him to use when a superior officer was a woman. But she smiled inside that he’d remembered such a small thing like the sensitivity to the sun suffered by all redheads. Chagrined, she put the hat on and pulled it forward, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“After all that time in North Carolina, how in hell did we never mention what we did for a living?” She couldn’t believe her stupidity. Martha had nothing on her for not asking the right questions.

“In Carolina we had lots of other things on our minds. I knew you’re a lawyer. When I thought of you, I never wondered how you spent your time at work. I just thought of how you spent your time with me.”

“That’s pretty shallow.”

Todd laughed. “Not to a man.”

Stupid answer. But it had been his very maleness that captivated her. Well, and orgasms. Who’s shallow now?

“Look,” he said, his hand out in a request for understanding. “It isn’t as though I didn’t want to get to know you better. I did. I do. But when we’re together I can’t keep my hands off you. I can’t stop thinking how I want to touch you, kiss you, do other things to–”

“When were you going to tell me you were in the Navy?” she asked.

He sighed loud enough that she heard it over the sound of the waves. “I don’t know. I guess when we slowed down enough to talk. There wasn’t much time.”

There hadn’t been. In Asheville, if they hadn’t been eating or sleeping, they busy in other ways. And there hadn’t been much eating or sleeping going on.

“I think they should put a plaque on the outside of that room for the fewest number of times the occupants left in four days. I couldn’t get enough of you.” Carrying his shoes in his left hand, he stuck his right hand in his pocket and strolled along beside her, barefoot. “I still can’t.”

“You didn’t exactly write and tell me that.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to assume too much, not knowing if you wanted me again as much as I wanted you. Call me shy.” He grinned, and she burst into laughter. “Besides,” he continued, “you’re the one who left saying, ‘It’s been fun.'”

She dipped her head, acknowledging the fact. “And you agreed.”

“Carie, I was scared.”

He sounded sincere, but really? He stopped and stared out across the breakers. She stared along with him, wondering what he saw out there. “I’m pretty set in my ways,” he said, and she had to strain to hear him, he spoke so low. “I’ll be honest, I haven’t been a monk, but sex with you was different. You made me think of things I’d never considered before.” He studied her face. “Do you understand?”

“I think so,” she said softly. “I wanted you more than anything. I’ve never had time or energy for a relationship. I’ve given all I have to my career. But I think I want more now.”

Todd reached to cup her cheek but then dropped his hand. “Like I said, I’m not a monk but there’s been no one since you.”

She wanted him. More, she needed him. “Nor for me. It wouldn’t have been the same. Nothing before you was ever that intense. Nothing else has ever touched me.” Pain struck her heart. “I want to kiss you so damn much.”

Before he could say anything, she turned and began walking again, sticking her hand in her pocket so she wouldn’t be tempted to reach for his hand. She’d had to hold herself back from stepping into his arms in the hallway on base. Here, on a near-empty beach, she had to exert even more will power. “That was then, and this is now. Vacation and real life seldom mix.”

“Funny,” he said. “Given the chance, I’d mix vacation and real life in a New York minute”

“Me, too,” she admitted. “But we can’t now. You’ve ruined everything.”

She felt him stiffen beside her. Idiot! You make a living saying the right thing to sway people’s opinion and you screw up like that?

“This is my fault how?” he asked quietly. She hadn’t seen him angry, but she had an idea this quiet voice was the prelude.

“You’re in the Navy but you’re not an officer.” It might sound petty, but regs were regs. “Why aren’t you an officer?” Okay, and that sounded whiny. But damn it, she felt whiny. “That attorney friend of yours said you were a mechanical engineer. Weren’t you offered OCS?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. After I received my BS and again after I earned my Masters. I didn’t accept because I didn’t want to be an officer.”

“Why not?” She spun to face him, the arm holding her sandals outstretched in confusion. She’d never met anyone who would turn down the chance to make more money and have more prestige.

“I like working, using my hands, being with my men—on the job and off.”

She started walking again. “Well, too bad you like sleeping with me. Or you seemed to. God knows, I loved being with you. And now it’s all over.”

“I’m surprised at you, counselor. The regulation obviously was written for two people who work together. It’s to keep one from having undue power over the other. We don’t work together.”

“It’s military regulations. You don’t mess with them. I don’t mess with them. I work to uphold them, not bend them to suit my desires.”

“I love your desires.” He pulled her hand from her pocket. Linking their fingers, he stepped closer and they continued their stroll across the sand as though the world hadn’t just turned on its axis. “Right here, right now, it feels like we never left Asheville. The view is different but we’re the same.”

Carie opened her mouth for air, suddenly needing more than she had a moment ago. But she couldn’t gather the strength needed to take back her hand. “The view isn’t the only thing different.”

He frowned. “Was I the friend you had planned to surprise this weekend?”

“Yes.” She sighed.

He laughed out loud. “You succeeded wildly.”

Reviews:

An I Heart Indie Finalist

“These short stories have made me remember the passion between a woman and a man. Inspiring and heartfelt. A true gift this author has for sharing the beautiful relationship between a man and a woman.”

“Naval Maneuvers is plural because there are three erotic love stories included in this amazing trilogy by talented author, Dee S. Knight.

“Sexy, witty, and fun.”

A little about me:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Author links:

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

Charity Sunday: Tunnel to Towers

How Charity Sunday works: for every comment made on this blog post, I will donate money to the charity named. The same promise is made for every blog site listed in the group–click the Linky Links link at the bottom of this post to see the list of participants and read/comment on any of them to see a donation go to that blogger’s charity. We’re all different! Thanks for your help and your participation!

There are events in our lives that we always remember where we were when we heard it happened. For me, some of those events were when John Kennedy was shot, when Neil Armstrong stepped onto the moon, when Captain Jeremiah Denton arrived home from his imprisonment in Vietnam, and, of course, when the towers and Pentagon were struck and the folks on United 93 made the ultimate sacrifice. On this Memorial Day weekend, the time is appropriate to remember all those who died on September 11, 2001, as well as those who died in service of the fall of the towers and the events that resulted afterward.

On the morning on 9/11/2001, Jack and I were living in San Francisco. Jack had a conference in San Diego the next day and we were on the road, making the drive. We had called his mom in Virginia before we left and she said a plane ran into the trade towers in New York, but gave no further details. I think, like most, she was in shock from what she had been watching on TV. We were in a hurry. We expressed some semblance of horror that such a thing could happen, but we still had a vision of a small plane glancing off the iconic buildings. We had no idea at all that the world had just shifted.

While driving down I-5 we found a radio station, and finally the sheer panic and awfulness of what had happened on the east coast began to sink in. We had gone a couple hundred miles when we turned around and went home, only to huddle in front of the TV, trying to understand how such a thing could happen—like the rest of the nation.

One of the good things to come from that miserable day was the Tunnels to Towers Foundation. The foundation helps families of first responders and military personnel who have fallen. These families not only have to deal with the loss of a loved one but also their income. Tunnel to Towers pays the mortgage on their houses—in full! The relief this must bring is a gift for the soul as much as the benefit of a physical structure. I am honored to gift them this Charity Sunday.

Please comment. Do you know about this organization?

Buy link:
Mystic Desire

Mystic Desire is a collection of short paranormal romance stories. This is a chance to read and discover the work of a diverse group of very talented authors.

The themes in this book are varied, as are the collection of characters and artifacts, including Native American dream catchers, mystical jewelry, and characters such as lustful vampires, hot warlocks, a grumpy leprechaun, a ghostly terrier, a zombie apocalypse and things that go bump in the night.

From soft and tender love to hot passionate, kinky sex, there is something for everyone in this anthology.

The Sweetest Magic of All – Alice Renaud
When a sexy apprentice witch and a hot warlock go back in time to locate a magical amulet, they find more than they bargained for. It’s May Eve, the most magical night of the year, and normal rules don’t apply…

An Awareness of Evil – Dee S. Knight
Only two things stand between evil and a small girl: the visions of Amanda McMasters and Detective Brendan Gilchrist. Neither can afford to be wrong.

Bewitching the Wolf – Zia Westfield
The Witch, Alice Humphreys has poured her heart and soul into creating a magical B&B where guests experience the fantasy vacation of their dreams!  Brodie MacEwan has been sent to investigate the mysterious death of his uncle. He never expected to discover his soul mate in his dreams. But is the illusion real? Alice knows that there is something all too predatory about the Scotsman and he makes her body tingle in places it shouldn’t!

Calling All Angels – Lora Logan
Elijah Baker, an immortal tasked with fighting against demons that exist on earth, finds peace when he meets his new neighbor, Celeste. But when he realizes that their love comes with a cost, he is faced with choosing between his calling and a chance at true love.

Dream Catcher – Callie Carmen
Long ago, a medicine man had made a matched set of dream catchers as a wedding gift to protect the Chief’s daughter and her warrior husband. He had called upon the benevolent spirits to keep the two soul mates safe and in a loving, healthy marriage. It was foretold that if the two dream catchers were ever divided the new owners would be drawn together as soul mates. Was that possible?

Life Saving – Anne Krist
Saving lives isn’t just for adults. Sometimes the innocent magic of a child can do the job better.

Love from the Mist – Patricia Elliott
When Jace Warden learns that his brother plans to announce his engagement at a family get together, he flees to the other side of the world to escape the joyous celebration.

Or at least attempts to…  His plane never makes it, and he winds up trapped on an island. Little does he realize, he’s not alone; there’s a mischievous little entity milling about, and she wants to play.

Love Knows No Apocalypse – Patricia Elliott
Getting stranded in the middle of a storm was not Samantha Wheeler’s idea of an ideal situation, especially in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. But fighting zombies was the easy part; her heart, though, was a whole other matter. Thanks to a man named Steve Jones.

When they find themselves in danger, she has to decide what’s more important – dying for someone she loves or surviving.

Love that Binds – Carol Schoenig
On the outskirts of a small town where nothing grows, a young girl, Ianthee, is being bullied and accused of being a witch. Young Caleb, inexplicably drawn to Ianthee, comes to her rescue. Before they can explore their feelings, Caleb and his family disappear. What happened to him, and what part does a long-ago legend play in their lives?

Love’s Ghost – R.M. Olivia
“Sorry, babe. I know it hurts to hear.” John frowned.  I’ll make this brief. I spoke to the man in charge and he is giving me one last chance.”

“Come again?”

“I’m allowed to make love to my wife one last time before I have to cross over. So, are you ready for your husband? Are you ready for me, Ingrid?” He lifted my chin up and ran his thumb along my lips.  I felt a chill go down my spine. How could this be real? How could this be happening?

The Anniversary – Richard Savage
A cruel twist of fate wrenched Evelyn and Peter apart on their wedding anniversary. Evelyn’s life descends into darkness.  James enters her life giving her a chance of happiness. Evelyn discovers a piece of jewelry, that has the power to grant her time with Peter on their anniversary. She adores James, but needs Peter.  Can she ever really let Peter go, while there’s still a chance they can be together?

The Mortal Vampire – Suzanne Smith
Remy enjoys life as a vampire, never giving a thought to sucking every last drop of tasty blood out of his unfortunate victims and leaving them door nail dead. But his cold and carefree existence changes the day he crosses paths with the beautiful and mysterious mortal Angela.

Through the Veil – Jan Selbourne
A beautiful March day in 1875 ends in tragedy when the wagon carrying Helen and Marcus plunges down the mountainside. Generations pass before Rachel Finlay finds an old sepia photo of a man and woman. She knows them but she’s never met them and now, for the peace of mind she desperately craves, she goes back to where it began. In time, through the veil, knowing she may never return.

Unconditional Lust – Breanna Hayes
The massive, hideous merrow leader, Muruch, craves the taste of human flesh. Confined to the ocean, he feeds his horde with sailors from ships pulled into the maw of the Bermuda Triangle. When US Army Captain, Nurys Shaye, puts her life on the line to save him after being captured, his hunger for human flesh is shadowed by the desire for her body and her love. Will she be able to see past his appearance and trust him to break down her walls and teach her to feel?

Author Dee S. Knight:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website (www.nomadauthors.com). Fortunately, Dee’s high school sweetheart is the love of her life and husband to all three ladies! Once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity.

Author links:

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

Newsletter: https://landing.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h8t2y6

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K


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