Thursday, April 28, 2016

Guest Post: Not for the Faint of Heart

My friend Lisabet Sarai has released a new, expanded edition of her book, Incognito. I am so here for books that don't portray love and lust as opposites, and I am so here for Lisabet's uninhibited, sensual writing style. Check out what she has to say (there's an excerpt, too)! Lisabet is one of the writers who inspired me when I was starting out, and she continues to inspire me. I'm really excited to see this latest release. Without further ado, here's Lisabet:

My publisher has slapped a paragraph-long reader’s advisory on my new release, Incognito. Personally, I don’t like the prissy tone of their notice. On the other hand, I don’t want to offend any readers who pick up the book without a clear understanding that it contains taboo content.

And I’m willing to admit, some people might be shocked. The book is not for the faint of heart. Both Miranda and Mark are polymorphously perverse characters, attracted to both their own and the opposite sex. They’re natural switches, drawn to roles on both sides of the BDSM power equation. The book includes pretty much every variety of sexual encounter, from age play to cross-dressing. I’m sure that some readers would dismiss the book as nothing but gratuitous sex.

That’s not how I see it, though. Incognito is, first and foremost, the story of one woman’s journey to realize and express her sexuality. Miranda’s heart-crushing initiation into sex leaves her emotionally scarred, unable to reconcile the experiences of love and lust. She’s ultimately healed by her relationship with Mark, a man who’s open and accepting of all her desires.


Betrayed and abandoned by her first lover, shy and studious Miranda Cahill freezes in response to any sexual attention from someone she knows and likes.

During the day, she works diligently on her doctoral thesis. At night, though, she finds herself drawn into increasingly extreme sexual encounters with strangers. Her anonymous secret life begins to take over when she discovers that the masked seducer she meets in a sex club and the charismatic young professor courting her are the same man.

Reader Advisory: This book contains mention of incest involving an aunt and nephew and also scenes of incest involving a pair of M/F cousins. There is both M/M and F/F content within this book, as well as public sex, ménage et trois, swapping of partners, use of foreign objects during sex, anal sex and a scene of dubious consent.


She rose, circled the table, and sat down beside him, taking his hand. “I’m more than ready,” she told him. “But since we are playing Truth or Dare here, I have to be honest about what I have been doing the past few weeks.”

Putting aside her embarrassment, she recounted her amorous adventures since their meeting. He knew, of course, of the ménage à trois, and tonight’s kinks. She told him about coupling in the alley with the Japanese businessman from the subway. She described her experiences with Big Daddy’s discipline, her frightening delight at being spanked and sodomized. Wincing internally, watching his reaction, she confessed her risky debauchery on the billiard table. Mark’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

“Finally,” said Miranda, “this sexual frenzy is intruding into my work life. You remember that day you found me in the library? If you had arrived only a few moments sooner, you would have found me with my fingers in my pussy, grinding away in orgasm.”

“Yes,” said Mark, amusement in his voice. “I knew about that. But these other tales—Miranda, you amaze me!”

“You’re not angry? Or shocked?”

“Of course not.” He pulled her close to him and whispered in her ear. “I’m delighted that I’ve finally found a partner as adventurous and horny as I am.” He nipped at her earlobe. Sparks leapt up between her legs. Miranda’s whole body sprang to attention, nipples alert, straining to be touched, clitoris equally insistent. His mouth captured hers in one of his fierce, all-consuming kisses, while his hands wandered over her silk-clad torso.

“Let’s go into the bedroom,” gasped Miranda, when she could breathe again. She ached to lay down with this man, to open herself to him.

“I have a better idea,” said Mark. He stood and stripped off his shorts. His erection stood proudly, bobbing in the candlelight. Miranda pulled her dress over her head and tossed it in a corner. The remains of her hairdo disintegrated, ebony locks tumbling over her shoulders.

Moving to one of the windows, he threw it open. Before Miranda grasped what was happening, he stepped through, and held out his hand to her. “Fire escape,” he said with a hint of his usual grin. A thrill passed through her as she understood what he had in mind.

She followed him through the window. A cool breeze off the harbor caressed her bare skin. The wrought iron platform was rough under her feet. She smelled fried batter, rotting fish, incense, anise. A neon sign on a neighboring roof painted her body in lurid reds and greens.

The apartment looked out on an alley. It was nearly three in the morning. Still, if anyone were to pass by, she and Mark would be completely exposed.

She loved that thought.

Mark positioned her with her back to the iron railing. “Spread your legs, and hold on.” He crouched before her, gazing at her moist folds arrayed before him. He blew lightly on the delicate flesh. She twitched and trembled in response. “Oh, Miranda,” he sighed, and buried his hungry mouth between her thighs.

There was no tentativeness here, no teasing touches designed to arouse her. In one swift movement he sucked her throbbing clitoris into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. Miranda’s knees buckled. She forced a fist into her mouth to stifle her moans. Mark ate her pussy the same way that he kissed, forcefully, ferociously, with a single-minded intensity that left her dizzy and weak.

Now he used his hands to open her labia wide. He fastened his mouth on her inner lips, applying a delicious suction as if he were devouring the sweet pulp of some juicy fruit. Meanwhile, his tongue probed her deeply, setting up echoes of his studded cock earlier in the evening. Mark’s saliva felt scalding hot on her sensitized tissues, still inflamed from their earlier battering.

The memory of his leather-clad erection superimposed itself upon the current scene. She felt his tongue grow longer and thicker, until it seemed to fill her completely. She pushed her sex at his mouth, her hips tensing as she tried to drive him deeper. She smelled his sweat, and hers. Faintly, as if in the distance, she heard again the snap of the lash and the ribald encouragement of the audience.

The iron railing bit into her back, awakening the sting of her welts, but Miranda hardly noticed. All thought, all attention, was focused on the glorious play of sensations between her legs. She sank her fingers into her partner’s hair and pulled his face into her crotch. He changed his technique in response, sweeping his tongue along the length of her crevice, from her clit to the tender edge of her rear hole and back. Faster and faster he stroked, while Miranda felt orgasm coiling within her, wound tight, waiting.

The aching need suffused her flesh. Her body was strung like a harp, every nerve stretched toward elusive release. She was so close. It seemed that the merest touch would topple her over the edge, and yet she hovered there, seemingly forever, while Mark plied her sex with fingers, lips, tongue and teeth. Her pleasure was tinged, however slightly, with frustration.

Suddenly, Mark rose from his haunches and stood before her. He brushed her lips with his. Miranda felt stickiness, knew the salty seaweed taste of her own arousal. “Relax,” Mark murmured, cupping a breast while he nuzzled just above her collarbone. “Just relax, and trust me.” Miranda felt something shift at the warm sound of his voice. A clenching in her chest, of which she had not been consciously aware, loosened and seemed to evaporate. “Give yourself to me, Miranda, all of yourself. Don’t hold back.”

As he uttered these words, he reached down and thrust four fingers into Miranda’s cunt. She convulsed around him, finally released. The orgasm went on and on, waves of delight radiating from her center. Fingertips, toes, earlobes, nipples, tingled and sparked as electric pleasure surged through her. Dimly, she heard herself scream, harsh and shrill as some exotic bird in the night. She would have fallen to her knees on the wrought-iron platform, if Mark had not caught and held her.

Where to Find Out More:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Barnes & Noble

Totally Bound

All Romance
An All Romance Best Seller!


About Lisabet:

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website, along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance, she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.

Also, Lisabet and I blog together at Oh Get a Grip! The writers there explore a new topic every two weeks, from many different angles. I'm super proud of the writing I do there, and Lisabet is our fearless leader. :)

Sunday, April 17, 2016

One Time at Porn Camp...

I spent last weekend at the Circlet Press Editorial Retreat, also known as #porncamp. I like the name because it embraces the sexuality we're trying to celebrate. At the same time, I don't think it accurately represents how deep things get there. I have a master's degree in writing, and I've been to all sorts of conferences and classes, and I've never been to any event or class with as high a degree of really useful information and activities as #porncamp. Here are some impressions of the whirlwind:


I got to see a proof of the print edition of my anthology MakerSex: Erotic Stories of Geeks, Hackers, and DIY Projects. (Ebook edition is available now, and the print edition is on its way!)


We recorded a podcast of a live reading with Nobilis Erotica (you can hear me last, reading from my genderqueer science fiction story "Always the Same, Always Changed", which you can hear in full in The Sexy Librarian's Dirty 30).


Laura Antoniou, writer of the Marketplace series clued us in on tips for writing and sustaining a series. I've always wanted to try writing one, so I was glad to learn from a master. Cecilia Tan also shared insights about serials, which is another form I've been curious about, and that wasn't covered in my formal writing education.


Social media is hard for me. I genuinely like talking to people, but maintaining that day after day online takes a sort of energy and attention that I often feel I can't afford—too often, it seems it would come at the expense of my writing or my significant personal relationships. So much talking about social media in writerly contexts is about shame and endless to-do lists. I really appreciate that at the Circlet Retreats we've talked about it with more attention to pragmatism, personality, authenticity, and emotional needs. Last year, we talked a lot about depression and social media. This year, Avery Vanderlyle came up with some great ideas for how writers can support each other while being social. I'm really looking forward to working with her and Artemis Savory on allowing a bit more of myself to live online. Also, Artemis and Avery are wonderful. This post wouldn't exist without them, so it's already working!


I moderated a panel on safer sex in speculative fiction worlds. I've said for a while that I prefer contemporary erotica stories to include safer sex because there's a lot of characterization that one sees in how those discussions, negotiations, and practices are handled. There is an ease to handwaving those issues away in speculative fiction, but I think that leaves a fair bit of world-building on the table, and denies a chance to get to know more about who's in the story. This could be a giant post in its own right, but I framed some categories for us to talk about, and then enjoyed what Circlet authors and editors had to say about them.

In no particular order, I think consider safer sex in specfic could produce really interesting details about barrier types (psychic as well as physical? something else?), negotiation techniques (verbal/nonverbal? ritual? etc), cultural beliefs (matching science or not? consistent across cultures?), consequences (complex, definitely), and opportunities for display of trust and intimacy. These are all really cool things to think about when designing other worlds. I want to spend more time sinking into these ideas, either in story or post form.

(I'm thinking a lot about safer sex lately—don't forget that I'm currently looking for submissions for Positively Sexy, which will feature erotic stories about characters who have STIs.)


I finally, finally got to play Slash: The Game, which I've heard about every year at #porncamp. I'm still thinking about Barbarella paired with Morticia Addams, and Mr. Spock finding love with Castiel.


And last but not least, Circlet's publisher Cecilia Tan never lets us get away without writing something new, so I have the beginnings of a lesbian robot story that I'm going to be finishing up in the next few days. Here's a taste:

"Fuck them," I said, as I began to fuck her. "It's not our fault they fucked up the programming. I don't give a fuck if they die because we're off mission."

If they'd wanted us to act rationally, they shouldn't have made us so human. They shouldn't have given her the capacity to get so gloriously wet, to squeeze my finger with such taut muscularity. They shouldn't have connected my here endings with such complexity, shouldn't have let my body sympathize with hers so well, shouldn't have made me so I shivered at the base of my spine at the effort of working my fingers deeper into her tightening cunt.

So that starts my afternoon off right. Having participated in the group activities, it's just about time for me to head back to my bunk ;)