#NewRelease from Lisbet Sarai: BY MOONLIGHT

Lisabet Sarai joins me today with a look at her new release, BY MOONLIGHT a lesbian historical romance. Lisabet says the inspiration for this story comes from the poem THE HIGHWAYMAN by Alfred Noyes (https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43187/the-highwayman) The biggest change from the poem, aside from BY MOONLIGHT being a lesbian romance, is that it has a happy ending rather than a tragic one. She made it a true romance! Welcome Lisabet!

Don’t Throw Anything Away

Inspiration is fickle. One day you’ll be seized by an idea that just won’t let you go. You throw yourself into the writing, intoxicated by the process of creation, certain this will be the best book you’ve ever produced. The sentences and paragraphs flow, the story taking shape on the page almost without effort.

Then, suddenly and inexplicably, the fire dies out. The magic evaporates, and you’re left to plod along, trying dutifully to complete the opus to which you’ve devoted your time, despite your doubts about its quality. 

If you’re trying to make a living writing, you can’t afford to wait for the muse. You’ve got to produce. If, like me, you write primarily for the joy of the process, you may abandon the entire project when your inspiration disappears.

That’s what happened with By Moonlight. For years, I’d wanted to write an erotic tale based on the Alfred Noyes poem “The Highwayman”. One day the stars aligned. I sat down and wrote the first chapter in a couple of hours. It turned out exactly as I’d imagined it, both lyrical and arousing. I was chuffed, as my UK author friends would say, eager to push the tale forward.

The next weekend, though, when I sat down to continue, I discovered that inspiration had fled. The whole notion seemed silly. I really couldn’t force myself to write any more.

So I put the barely-started tale aside and worked on something else. I always have lots of potential projects in mind, far more than my writing time allows.

That was four years ago. I’d almost forgotten By Moonlight. Then a stormy night recently reminded me of the poem, and the poem reminded me of the story. When I pulled it up and re-read it, I was freshly impressed and determined to complete it. 

After such a long lag, I worried that I wouldn’t be able to recreate the tone of that intense first installment. Fortunately I was able to get feedback from my online critique partners, who helped me to adjust the language and the atmosphere appropriately. All in all, I’m happy with the result. I think I’ve managed to fulfill my intentions, offering homage to the Noyes poem while twisting the story in an original (and happier) direction.

The lesson here, though, is clear. If you are an author, don’t throw anything away! Keep all your snippets, all your abandoned projects, all your monuments to the departed muse.

You really never know when inspiration will return.

Blurb:

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.

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.

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

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 

#NewRelease from Lisabet Sarai: THE EYES OF BAST

 Lisabet Sarai is my guest today with a new shapeshifter erotic romance called THE EYES OF BAST. This 27,500 word novella was previously published by Totally E-Bound and this new edition has been revised and re-edited. Welcome Lisabet!

Plausible Enchantment

The notion of finding one’s soul mate—the one individual in the universe whom you’re destined to love—is possibly the most fundamental romance trope. I can understand the appeal of this concept. It’s both reassuring and thrilling to imagine a lover perfectly attuned to your needs, your ideal complement and companion, a person who makes you whole and vice versa. 

I find it hard to write stories about soul mates, though. I’m always aware that reality is much messier than romantic fantasy. Mostly I create contemporary stories where the relationships are realistically complicated. My heroines are frequently unsure about their own feelings. Sometimes they’re attracted to more than one person, in different ways. That’s one reason my back list contains so many ménage tales, I think, to save my heroines from having to choose whom they should love!

But paranormal romance frees me from the constraints of realism. In a world infused with magic, I can suspend disbelief about forever-after perfect matings. Magic imposes structure and symmetry on the tale. Perfect love may be kindled by enchantment, or may reflect age-old connections. Old souls, old lovers, may meet again in a new life. A quest, a struggle against evil forces, may bind two characters together for eternity. 

In paranormal erotic romance, you can recognize your soul mate by the transcendent and irrational lust he inspires. That’s certainly true in my shapeshifter paranormal romance The Eyes of Bast. The instant Tom touches her, Shaina is overcome by irresistible desire. The connection is instantaneous, taking over both her body and her heart. 

I don’t explain why Tom and Shaina are soul mates. I don’t need to. It’s obvious that magic is involved. They are under one another’s spell, an enchantment that can’t be broken. That’s enough to allow me, and hopefully my readers, to believe that these two belong together.

Blurb:

When instinct tells Shaina to visit the feral cat trap she’s set in Central Park, she listens to that inner voice. She discovers she’s caged a magnificent black tom, but the cat inexplicably vanishes after she tends to his wounds. Seeking the missing feline, Shaina encounters instead a handsome stranger whose slightest touch sets her body on fire. As the day dawns after a night of ferocious passion, her mysterious lover is forced back into his true shape—the tomcat she rescued.

Born a cat, Tom was transformed into an unwilling shape shifter by a sorceress who craved a human plaything to satisfy her perverse lusts. Centuries old and irresistibly powerful, Delphine Montserrat will stop at nothing to find her runaway familiar. Shaina vows to do whatever is necessary to defeat the vicious but seductive witch and save the man she believes is her soul mate—even though it might mean losing him forever. 

The Eyes of Bast was previously published by Totally E-Bound. This new edition has been revised and re-edited. 

Excerpt:

“Hey there, kitty.” I crouched down on the grass beside the steel-mesh cage, my straight skirt riding up my thighs. “Are you all right?”

The massive black tom in the cage bared his teeth and hissed. I felt his rage and frustration. I wanted to reach into the trap, scratch behind those huge ears and comfort him, but I knew better. 

“Shh! I won’t hurt you, kitty. It’s going to be okay. Tomorrow I’ll take you to a nice, warm place where you can have plenty of food.” I played my light over his body, which was lean but not emaciated. Although his fur bristled, overall he looked clean and healthy. Then I noticed a wound on his left flank. It gleamed, wet and oozing, in the beam from my torch. 

“Oh, dear! What happened to you? That’s a nasty gash.” I stuck the light into my jacket pocket. I only had two hands, and the mace was more critical. The cat’s menacing growl turned into a whimper as I picked up the trap, jostling him against the mesh. “Sorry, kitty. We have to get you home and dress that. That will make you feel better.” 

The combination of the cage and my quarry must have weighed at least twenty  pounds. “You’re a big guy,” I commented as I picked my way along the tree-hung path back to the street. Once my eyes adjusted to the dark, it wasn’t too difficult. I glanced into the cage a few times. The tom’s eyes glowed as though lit from within. 

Getting him up five flights of stairs was another story. I paused to catch my breath on the fourth story landing, resolving yet again to find a better paying job.

Finally, I wrestled the cage into my studio apartment and set it on the floor near the window. My feline guest huddled in a corner of the trap, watching me with wary eyes as I stripped off my work clothes, donned an old sweatsuit, and went to fetch antiseptic, antibiotic ointment, cotton balls, gauze, tape and a towel from the bathroom. I sat cross-legged on the worn carpet next to the cage. Now came the hard part.

“Pussycat, I need to take you out now. I know you’re scared and upset, but please, don’t fight me. This is for your own good.”

The cat’s solemn expression suggested that he understood me. Slowly, trying not to alarm him, I unlatched the door of the trap. I wrapped the towel around both my hands and reached in to grab him. I expected him to yowl, hiss or scratch. However, he didn’t resist at all. I pulled him out, cradling him in my lap. Normally, I’d swathe a feral’s body in the towel to immobilize him. This guy seemed so calm and quiet, though, I wasn’t sure it was necessary.

I soaked some cotton in betadine. “Sorry, but this is going to hurt,” I told him, holding his forelegs in my left hand while dabbing at his lacerated hip with my right. He winced but didn’t try to escape. In fact, he lay completely still in the hollow of my folded legs while I doctored him. In no time, I’d bandaged the injury, wrapping the gauze around his upper leg and securing it with surgical tape. The snow-white stripe across his haunches was a stark contrast to his jet-black fur.

He gazed up at me, his eyes glittering like paired jewels. I ventured a scratch behind his ears and was rewarded by a low purr. “You’re going to be fine, puss. But now I have to put you back into the cage.”

“Rowrr!” His sudden growl startled me. I managed to capture him in the towel before he could run. “Pfftt! Rrr-owl…!” He raised his voice in obvious protest as I tried to bundle him back into the trap.

“Hush, puss! Shh! Do you want to get me evicted?” My lease said no pets. I reasoned that the ferals I occasionally kept here overnight didn’t qualify as pets, but I wasn’t eager to test this theory.

“Rowrr!” my guest insisted. I scratched his ears again then smoothed the fur under his chin. He settled into my arms.

“You really don’t want to go back in, do you?”

“Mrrow.” His meaning was obvious. 

I was so tempted to agree to his wordless plea for freedom. I could imagine how awful it must be, to be locked up when you were used to roaming free. Of course, given his willingness to let me touch him, he might not be feral at all. He wasn’t wearing a collar and it was clear he hadn’t been neutered, but still, the shelter should check to see if he’d been microchipped.

He rubbed his cheek against my arm. His hefty body vibrated with his purr. Then he stretched out his neck so he could lick the back of my hand. His warm, rough tongue sent a delicious little shiver up my spine.

“You’re very hard to resist. Do you know that?”

“Meeow.” I could have sworn he was smiling.

“Okay, you win.” After all, it was one room. The doors and windows were locked. Where could he go? 

Buy Links:

Kinky Literature – https://www.kinkyliterature.com/book/4072-the-eyes-of-bast-/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C4LVYDLH

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0C4LVYDLH

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1390042

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-eyes-of-bast-lisabet-sarai/1121761796?ean=2940166056207

Kobo  - https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-eyes-of-bast-2

Apple Books - https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6448929321

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/150375804-the-eyes-of-bast

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, 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, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh 

#NewRelease from Lisabet Sarai: OPENING NIGHT

I'm happy to welcome Lisabet Sarai to Journeys with Jana. Her new release, OPENING NIGHT, is a historical gay romance set in the theatre world, Gilbert and Sullivan operetta. Welcome Lisabet!

A Lifelong Passion

When I was five years old, my parents took me to see my first Gilbert and Sullivan concert. I remember it surprisingly well. Organized outdoors as part of a summer music festival on the Boston Common, the performance featured the legendary Martyn Green from the D’Oyly Carte Opera company – the same troupe that originally mounted William Gilbert’s and Arthur Sullivan’s comic operas in the nineteenth century.

My father and mother were both G&S aficionados. The family must have had phonograph records of at least some of the operettas, because I could sing many of the songs by the time I was in my teens. Certainly we took advantage of whatever opportunities came along during my childhood to indulge ourselves in the topsy-turvy world of the famous pair. 

The day I met my husband-to-be, he happened to mention that he was a G&S fan. I will admit, I took this as a sign that we were meant to be together. Later, he and I lived in a town that had its own G&S amateur group, who mounted a different operetta every year. Those were heady days! My parents would often travel cross-country to join us in what became a beloved ritual. During those years, I believe we saw performances of the entire G&S catalog.

Though not as generally popular as The Mikado or Pinafore, Ruddigore is probably my favorite Gilbert and Sullivan opera. This is partly due to the hints of darkness – Sullivan’s music echoing the eerier strains of Mozart’s Don Giovanni – but also the humor. The paradoxical logic that allows Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd to argue his way out of the witches’ curse is some of the best comic sleight-of-hand in any G&S play. Ruddigore also includes one of the most outstanding female characters in the oeuvre, Mad Margaret – a village woman driven to insanity by her passion for Ruthven’s Bad Baronet brother Despard. (Yes, I know, just the sort of person to whom a romance author would be drawn...)

There’s another bit in Ruddigore, though, that gave me the initial idea for Opening Night. Rollicking seaman Dick Dauntless is the foster brother and (supposedly) the bosom friend of the disguised Ruthven, and loudly proclaims his love for his brother in one of the scenes. What if that scene were to develop into a homo-erotic confession? I wondered. And then I thought about the possible repercussions, during the straight-laced Victorian period, if Gilbert were to find himself falling in love with another man.

Opening Night quotes liberally from the original play (courtesy of my mother’s Complete Works of Gilbert and Sullivan, which I inherited), but I admit to playing fast and loose with both history and the plot. I hope the result justifies this distortion – and that Gilbert would recognize the romantic appeal of my artistic license.

If you’ve never experienced Ruddigore, you’ll find a variety of recordings on YouTube, for instance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=litYduyL1Xw

And for those of you who don’t have the patience to watch the opera... you might enjoy this four minute summary of the plot: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeHbS8aA6TQ

In any case – I hope you’ll also check out my story!

Blurb:

Let your heart be your compass

It’s January 1887, a few days before the opening of the audacious new operetta “Ruddigore”. As if librettist William Gilbert doesn’t have enough to worry about, one of the D’Oyly Carte stars breaks his leg doing the horn pipe. Fortunately, the understudy Frank Wilson turns out to be immensely talented, as well as devilishly handsome. Wilson has set his heart on Gilbert – and he’s not going to be swayed from his course.

Excerpt:

Gilbert found Wilson down by the Embankment, smoking and staring at the river. The sleet had stopped but the sky was still piled with leaden clouds. He watched the young man for a few moments before calling out to him.

The understudy had a distinct grace about him as he lounged against the rail. He wore a gray worsted overcoat and felt bowler with a hat band of green silk. He half-turned, revealing an elegant profile, and Gilbert noticed the matching cravat. Gilbert wondered how the young man could afford such snappy clothing on an actor’s wages.

“Mr. Wilson!”

Frank faced Gilbert. His face was alight, glowing like a misplaced sun in the grimy dusk. Gilbert took a deep breath. Yes, the lad was handsome, with classic features, a cleft chin, and dimples that spoke of mischief.  It was more than that, though. Despite his youth, this man had presence, a powerful attractiveness that drew the eye and the heart. Charisma, that was the word.   

“Mr. Gilbert.” Wilson deliberately mashed his cigarette out against the iron rail. “What’s wrong, sir?”

“Are you up on the Dick Dauntless part? The lines? The songs?”

The light in the young man’s face brightened. “Yes, of course. Why? Is poor Mr. Lely ill? How unfortunate!”

Gilbert was not deceived by the concerned words. Wilson was burning to take over the injured tenor’s role.

“He has suffered an accident and is effectively incapacitated as far as the play is concerned. However, we cannot afford to delay the opening. We resume rehearsals at four o’clock.”

Frank Wilson beamed. “I’ll be there.” He climbed the steps to Gilbert’s side, and took his arm. The director caught a whiff of scent, lilac with some sharper undertone. “May I accompany  you, sir?”

Gilbert swore that he could feel the heat of the other man’s flesh, even through the heavy wool coat. He swayed on his feet, suddenly woozy. Damn, Kitty was right, he was coming down with the grippe, if not something worse.

Frank steadied him. Gilbert had an impression of great strength.  He felt a momentary impulse to give in, to do nothing but lean against the solid young man and be supported, succored. He was so very tired of all the tension, the conflicts, the bickering of the cast, the acrimonious exchanges with Sullivan. How easy it would be, to yield to this handsome young man...

A few chill drops of rain on his face woke him from his reverie. He extricated himself from Wilson’s arm and strode back up the slope to the theater. “Come on,” he called, “the cast is waiting.” He didn’t need to look back to know that Frank Wilson was scrambling after him.   

Buy Links:

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BXCJVLC1

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BXCJVLC1

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1354766

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/opening-night-lisabet-sarai/1143156836?ean=2940166025562

Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/opening-night-17

Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6445998898

Add on Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/123174847-opening-night

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, 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, BookBub, BingeBooks and Twitter. 

Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh