New Release! Fin d’Espoir A Bisexual Vampire Romance by Lisabet Sarai

Fin d'Espoir by Lisabet Sarai

Their love may be his last hope for redemption.

MMF Vampire Erotic Romance, HFN ending
22,000 words, 81 pages
Smashwords and Amazon KDP

Teaser:
The ruins loomed close. The scent of burnt wood still lingered in the night air, though the plantation had obviously been destroyed years before. Chunks of blackened plaster and shards of glass lay strewn along their path. The moon, struggling through the dispersing storm clouds, turned the glass into sparks of cold fire. The shadows clinging to the building grew denser, congealing into impenetrable pools of dark. Malevolence hung over the place like a fog.

Maddy knew she should try to escape. This was her last chance. She sensed that once she entered this forbidding dwelling, she would be lost. Fin d’Espoir, he had called it—the end of hope. Or perhaps, the last hope. She stirred feebly in the black giant’s arms, but she was too exhausted to do more.

“Hush,” he crooned. “Just a moment now.”

Blurb:
Bitter and alone, Etienne de Rémorcy haunts the forest around the ruined plantation of Fin d’Espoir. He has sworn to never again taste human blood. Then a fierce storm and a runaway horse bring a slender, raven-haired beauty to his lair. When she begs him to take her, he cannot resist.

Madeleine and Troy hope that a carefree vacation in tropical Jamaica will reignite their faded passion. On a mountain trail ride, Maddy’s horse bolts, carrying her deep into the jungle. Injured and lost, she is saved by a giant of a man whose mere presence kindles unbearable desire. By the time she understands his dark nature, it is far too late for her to escape.

When Maddy returns, Troy finds her greatly changed : ravenous in bed, restless and disturbed otherwise. The elegant stranger he meets on the beach holds the key to her transformation – and soon has seduced Troy as well.

Tortured by his conscience, Etienne is determined to set the young couple free. But their love may be his last hope for redemption.

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound under the title Fire in the Blood. It has been edited and updated for this release.

Buy Links:
Kinky Literature – https://kinkyliterature.com/book/8227-fin-despoir-a-bisexual-vampire-romance/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08K55W8QD

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B08K55W8QD

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1045343

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/fin-despoir-lisabet-sarai/1137780673?ean=2940164262006

Kobo –  https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/fin-d-espoir-a-bisexual-vampire-romance

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55526630-fin-d-espoir

Online Excerpt:
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2020/10/coming-monday-dark-vampire-romance.html

Fin d'Espoir by Lisabet Sarai

Excerpt:
The horse lurched and shuddered, plunging down a sudden slope. Maddy barely escaped tumbling over his head. A broken branch ripped through her shorts and gashed her thigh. Lightning bloomed overhead. In the brief instant of brightness, she glimpsed ragged cliffs towering above them and a lush valley below. Thunder and profound darkness descended together.

The horse continued his downward rush. Desperate, Maddy clung to the saddle, her legs aching with the effort. It was all too easy to imagine herself broken and trampled on that rocky ground.

Impossible brilliance dawned, followed by a crash that left her ears ringing. Maddy smelled ozone and charred wood. An orange tongue flared on a nearby ridge, silhouetting towering trees before it was quenched by the downpour.

The ground became more level. Her mount picked up speed, splashing through a stream that crossed his route and showering her legs with water far colder than the rain. The underbrush thinned. They raced along through a natural tunnel formed by the branches arching overhead. Another lightning bolt crackled through the forest. It illumined what looked like a man-made structure, a few hundred yards ahead.

“Hello!” she yelled, trying to make herself heard above the din of the storm. “Anyone—please—help…!” She peered into the grey-green shadows. Had she been mistaken? The rain eased slightly. The damp breeze was redolent of smoke and growing things.

She must have loosened her grip. Lightning arced through the sky, followed by a crack of thunder that rattled her bones. The stallion froze, screaming its terror to the freshening wind. It rose on its hind legs, beating the air with its front hooves and dashing Maddy to the ground.

Lightning snaked across the clouds. Like its twin, fiery pain forked in Maddy’s ankle. The horse reared above her prone body, ready in its mad fear to crush her into the muddy earth. Grimacing with the effort, she tried to roll out of the way, though she knew she was too late.

“Whoa now, my pretty. Du calme, du calme.”

A man’s voice, deep and resonant, full of power. The stallion responded immediately, dropping back to all fours and hanging its head. A tall figure stepped out from behind a tree and grasped the bridle. “Good boy,” he murmured in the horse’s ear, gently stroking its muzzle all the while. “No need to fear now. Calm down.”

The transformation from a crazed beast to a docile pet was close to instantaneous. The man’s voice had a similar effect on Maddy, slowing her racing heart, even easing the throbbing in her ankle.

The stranger loomed over her, a huge man-shaped shadow. Full night had arrived, and Maddy could see nothing of the man’s features. She shivered and felt her heartbeat quicken once again. She was lost and alone, crippled by an ankle that was sprained if not broken. What could she do to protect herself?

He sank on his haunches next to her aching, muddy body. “Are you hurt, Miss?” he asked, his vowels rounded by the traces of French. Maddy’s fear melted in the warmth of that rich voice. The scent of roses tickled her nostrils. The pain in her ankle dwindled to an occasional annoying twinge.

The man’s skin reminded her of the Blue Mountain coffee she and Troy had enjoyed at breakfast, a brown so dark it was almost black. Raindrops gleamed on his smooth cheeks and pooled in the hollow of his throat. Looking at him made her thirsty. He was powerfully built, with massive shoulders swelling out from his worn denim vest. Underneath, his muscled chest was bare. A tight frizz of black hair grew in the furrow between his breasts.

As he crouched at her side, his jeans stretched taut over his thighs but hung loosely around his narrow hips. Another line of kinky curls ran down from his navel to disappear under his waistband.

His face was the visage of a Nubian king, prominent cheekbones and a fleshy nose with elegant, flared nostrils. His liquid-brown eyes were set wide apart, in deep sockets protected by the fine arch of his brows. His proud forehead rose above them, up to the tight-knit black frizz that covered his skull.

And his mouth… Maddy couldn’t stop herself from staring at those full lips, mahogany-red against his rosewood-dark face. They were parted in a half-smile that revealed the pearly white of perfect teeth.

Meet Lisabet:
Lisabet SaraiLisabet 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, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads, Pinterest, and  Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

 

So many lies, so much gold #MFRWHooks

Lies of Gold by Jan SelbourneBlurb:
Silent, ruthless, protected by an unknown ally in Whitehall, he smuggles gold across the Channel to Bonaparte. When flimsy evidence points to the Essex coast, three men are given secret orders to find these traitors. One of those men, Julian Ashford, has his life transformed into debts and disgrace and sent back to Halton Hall, and Katherine the woman he loved and lost. What Julian discovers within the walls of his ancestral home is much deeper and more sinister than he thought possible, but nothing could prepare him for the betrayal when he finally faces the mastermind behind this sordid operation.

Buy links:
Amazon
Goodreads
B&N

MFRW Book HooksExcerpt:
He turned the horse to the left and settled into an easy canter. They rounded a bend which he didn’t remember and a quarter of a mile ahead was the narrow road dividing the estate from the tenanted farms. He now knew where he was, but everything looked different. He reminded himself again that local scenery was the last thing on a twelve years old boy’s mind. When they came to the stream the horse dropped its head to drink and the first drops of rain fell.

“Christ, that’s all we need, a bloody soaking.” He’d have to ride back to where they’d emerged onto the grassy slope. His grandfather had shown good sense leasing his land but he’d made it plain he didn’t have to look at his lowly tenant farmers. Not only had he forbidden them to use the estate road, he’d ordered a wall be built along that end of his land. After strong protests, he grudgingly agreed to build a narrow apology of a road to meet the village road so they could take their produce to market. He’d then ordered them to show their gratitude by building a drystone wall on their side, to make it ‘visually pleasing’.

Julian vaguely remembered a gate in the estate wall and hoped he was right. The rain was falling in earnest as he urged the horse along the narrow, rutted road and almost missed it behind the thick ivy. Dismounting, he pushed aside the green blanket and swore. The gate was rusted and jammed. Remounting they continued and he shook his head in confusion. Ahead was another gate in the wall and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember it. He dismounted again, this gate was secured with a thick chain and lock on the inside. As he turned away a sliver of shiny metal in the wet earth caught his eye.  Reaching down he picked up a small crucifix.

“What the hell?” he muttered then his eyes went to the lock. Despite the rain he had to try. His fingers reached through the bars of the gate to insert the long end of the crucifix into the lock and, concentrating intently, he moved it gently. “Oh, come on!” He eased it around the inside workings again and it suddenly gave way.

“Well done, you haven’t lost your touch,” he congratulated himself, led the horse through and locked it behind him.

The rain fell steadily as they approached a semi- circle of poplars and he tightened the reins. Ahead of him was the rear of the Dower House.  His childhood home. Urging the horse through the poplars, he stared dumbfounded at the sagging, derelict building. Weeds and grass had almost taken over what remained of the small stone wall surrounding the house and the large pathway between the flower beds and rockeries had disappeared under a tangle of ground creepers and debris. A thick blanket of ivy had worked its way over most of the house and covered the chimneys. The glass had long gone from the gaping windows. The remains of the front portico were sagging and roof shingles lay scattered on the ground.

Julian remembered the Dower House was creaky, draughty and damp but this was a disgrace. Why hadn’t Charles ordered it knocked down? He led the horse to the crumbling remains of the stables and they stood huddled against the wall until the rain increased and the dripping from above became a stream. Pushing the horse further in, he ran to the house and pushed against the front door. After a protesting squeal of rusty hinges, the door gave way and scraped against the warped floorboards. He stepped into a large puddle on the hallway floor, peeling walls and the smell of decay.

“Christ, what a mess.”

The room on his right, once his mother’s sitting room, was littered with dead leaves and debris blown in through the gaping windows. Pushing open the door on the opposite side of the hallway, he stopped dead. Although the room was dark he could see straw mattresses covering most of the floor.  His eyes adjusted to the gloom showing him a table covered with tin plates and mugs and beside the fireplace freshly cut wood was stacked. Boards now covered what was once the window. Feeling vulnerable without a weapon, Julian backed out into the hallway, paused, then walked to the bottom of the staircase. Looking up to the floor above shrouded in darkness, he continued through the narrow hallway leading to the servants’ quarters and kitchen.

The hairs lifted from the nape of his neck. Wood was stacked on both sides of the huge fireplace and black cooking pots hung from the iron crossbar in the chimney. He turned and walked swiftly back through the house and out to the crumbling stables. It could very well be smugglers or poachers using the derelict building but his instincts were screaming that it wasn’t. The rain showed no signs of abating so he remounted and guided the horse along the now overgrown carriageway between the avenue of dripping trees leading to the park and the warmth of Halton Hall stables. He’d return to the Dower House again tonight.

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.

Contact Jan:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com/JanSelbourne/index.html

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/JanSelbourne

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jan.selbourne

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14661584.Jan_Selbourne?from_search=true

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Jan-Selbourne/e/B0184OSZ6E/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0

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

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jan-selbourne-2817b6140/

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