I am delighted to be hosting Lisabet Sarai, a writer I have long since admired, to my blog today.
I fondly remember her novel -Raw Silk- one of the first Black Lace books I read. It seems like a lifetime ago. I never dreamed back then that one day, not only would I write erotica myself, but that some of the best writers in the business would be dropping by my site.
Over to you Lisabet…
Returning to my roots – #erotica #fantasies #nolimits
By Lisabet Sarai
In April 1999, almost two decades ago, Black Lace books published the first edition of my debut novel Raw Silk. That book is an explicit compendium of my personal fantasies, a taboo tale of one woman’s sexual odyssey that was strongly influenced by my own initiation into BDSM.
At the time, I knew next to nothing about the conventions of erotica or erotic romance. I didn’t exercise any sort of self-censorship. If an erotic scenario turned me on, it found its way into the novel. As a result, Raw Silk involves a wide variety of sexual activities and situations: heterosexual, lesbian, and gay; pairings, threesomes and foursomes; public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, bondage, spanking, flogging, caning, femdom; dildos, anal sex, pegging; even sex involving chopsticks and a mango! In fact, the original manuscript included a golden shower. The editor made me remove it (commenting that this would be physically difficult to achieve given the protagonist’s erection), but she allowed me to retain a promise by the dominant to do this sometime in the future.
Writing that first novel was an intense experience. The ideas simply poured out of me, onto the page. I was in a perpetual state of arousal. Compared to my more recent work, the prose is a bit stiff and pedantic, but Raw Silk remains one of my most popular books, perhaps because readers sense the unfettered imagination and genuine emotion that went into it.
As I continued to write and publish, however, learning more about market and genre, some of that spontaneity and passion got lost. I started working with a publisher of erotic romance and discovered that there were fairly strict rules for what readers would and would not accept. The main characters should not have recreational sex outside their relationship. Any sort of FF or MM interaction was strictly verboten in a MF book. Likewise, MF activity in a MM or FF story was likely to raise readers’ hackles. Then there were the “reader advisories” for more extreme activities: rough sex, anal sex, fisting, and so on. I frequently battled with my editors about content and language. Meanwhile, I had to firmly suppress my own lascivious imagination, which had my characters doing things I knew would be red-penciled out of the final story.
That state of war really exhausted me. It drained my creative energy. As a result, in the past four years, I’ve moved almost exclusively to self-publishing, and I’ve started to enjoy writing much more. And more recently, I’ve found my way back to my roots, putting out books with all sorts of sexual situations, books that shatter the genre barriers and set me free to chronicle my fantasies, the way I did when I began.
My latest release, Sin City Sweethearts, is a fine example. This book isn’t quite as personal as Raw Silk, but it probably has at least as much sexual variety. Indeed, like Raw Silk, it’s really about sex, about the characters exploring, experimenting, learning what they enjoy—then practicing their new knowledge as often as possible.
Sin City Sweethearts is the third book in my Vegas Babes series. All three novellas feature melt-your-panties, no-holds-barred, over-the-top, damn-the-consequences sexual indulgence. Everyone gets their happy endings; indeed, there are lots of couples and marriage vows. In my fictional world, though, that doesn’t necessarily translate to monogamy. Why waste golden opportunities for pleasure?
I’ve been having tremendous fun writing my Vegas Babes. I keep telling myself I should sit down and pen something more serious, with more redeeming social value. My salacious imagination seems to disagree.
By the way, I’d like to thank Kay for hosting me. As a bit of a treat for her readers, I will give away a free copy of the first Vegas Babes book, Hot Brides in Vegas, to one randomly chosen person who leaves a comment. Don’t forget to include your email so I can find you if you win!
Welcome to Las Vegas—leave your inhibitions at the city limits.
Like many newlyweds, Annie and Ted work hard, economize, live in a too-small apartment, and make passionate love whenever possible. They’re just a bit more open-minded and inclusive about sex than most couples—they met at The Fox’s Den strip club and bonded during an orgy. They’re delighted when fraternal twins Marcella and Madeleine McNabb move into the apartment downstairs. The innocent eighteen year old beauties have come to Las Vegas for university and to escape their overprotective family. Annie and Ted figure it’s practically their duty to educate the sisters about the real Sin City.
Marcie and Maddy prove to be apt pupils, with voracious carnal appetites. Before long they’re intimately involved not only with their upstairs neighbors, but also their hippie landlord and landlady, Maddy’s hunky coach, Marcie’s dominant department head, a handful of their classmates, a bevy of strippers from the Den and the infamous Foxy and Larry themselves. Then the four McNabb brothers come to town, threatening to drag the twins back to Ely, and things get truly wild.
Marcie stepped into the dimly lit corridor beyond the door, which clicked shut behind her, muting the blare of the music and the buzz of the crowd. She looked around her, her heart beating double time. She knew she shouldn’t be here. If a stranger challenged her, she could use the same story that had worked with Rosa, but what if she ran into Larry?
Her footsteps were silent in the carpeted hallway. There were several doors on either side, all of them closed, none of them marked. Annie and her friends were likely behind one of them, but which one?
“Oh, yes— please…!”
The barely articulate plea died away into a moan of pleasure. It wasn’t Annie’s voice, but it was definitely a woman—a woman in the throes of sexual bliss. Marcella tiptoed toward the second door on the left, the apparent source of the vocalization.
“Oh—sir!” The new cry confirmed Marcie’s hunch. Hardly daring to breath, she tried the knob. To her surprise, it turned easily. She pushed just hard enough to open the portal a few inches, then peered inside.
Blood rushed to her nipples and her clit. Moisture gathered in her cleft to re-soak her already damp panties. The scene inside might have been something from a kinky internet porn site—not that she’d ever done that sort of forbidden surfing—but this was real, unfolding just a few feet from where she watched.
A naked woman lay draped face down over a coffee table. The layer of cushions under her prone body was piled higher beneath her hips to elevate her ass. In the front, straps bound her wrists to the table legs. At the rear, a bar of polished wood at least three feet long held her shackled ankles apart.
She was positioned at right angles to the door. Marcella could see everything, quite clearly: her full breasts, mashed against the table; the tangled black hair hanging in her eyes; the sweat gleaming along the curve of her spine; and the angry red marks streaking her ample buttocks.
The woman was not young—Marcella guessed she might be in her fifties—but her voluptuous sensuality was overwhelming. A flush of arousal further darkened her Mediterranean complexion. She writhed and moaned, grinding her pelvis against the pillows. Marcie felt the vicarious effects as own her clit swelled and pulsed. Like the woman upon whom she spied, she was close to the edge.
A whistling swish was followed by a snap. Marcie gasped along with the victim as a ribbon of leather sizzled through the air to leave a raw new stripe on the woman’s ass.
“Oh, God!” the stranger wailed, in obvious pain.
“Too much? Should I stop, Giulia?” The man’s voice seemed familiar. Marcie widened the crack through which she peered until she could see the woman’s tormenter.
“No, no, sir,” came her choked cry. “More! Please, give me more!”
Marce swallowed hard. The massive security guard they’d met outside the club stood behind the bound woman, between her splayed legs. Tiny, that was what Annie had called him. He was fully dressed, in a tight black tee that highlighted his powerful shoulders and chest and trim black jeans that seemed painted onto his muscular thighs. His cock reared up from the open fly—the longest, thickest, most awe-inspiring cock she’d ever seen. It pointed straight up toward the ceiling, reaching from his groin to his solar plexus. Protruding veins twisted around its huge girth, like vines around a tree trunk. The scarlet head was so slick and swollen it looked like it might burst.
The guard pumped his meat a few times with his left hand then swung the whip in his right. With a sharp report it landed on his partner’s rear, carving a new trail of red.
“Yes!” she yelled, jerking against the cushions. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I’m almost there, sir. One more, just one more…”
Leather sliced the air, then her flesh. Releasing a garbled yell, she tumbled into a loud, energetic climax. Her master watched for two beats, then drove his astounding cock into her wide-open cleft, burying himself to the hilt.
She came again, humping the cushions while he pistoned in and out of her hole. Meanwhile he spanked her whip-battered butt, his big palms landing on her punished cheeks with terrifying, arousing smacks.
Marcella’s legs gave out. She sank to her knees outside the door, both hands stuffed into her drenched panties, frigging herself as hard as she could while she watched that enormous dick stroking in and out of the submissive’s stretched and juicy cunt. She nudged the door a bit, to get a better view of the swollen pink pussy-lips clinging to the guard’s rod as he retreated for each new thrust. Then he’d ram back in, until his balls bounced against her clit. The woman—Giulia, she remembered—took every inch of his unbelievable length.
Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MQVSWCH
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07MQVSWCH
Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/917885
Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43594528-sin-city-sweethearts
About the Author
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, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.
Huge thanks to Lisabet for such a fabulous blog – and the chance for a free read to one lucky commenter! So get commenting!
Happy reading everyone,