Adriana Kraft

When it's time to heat things up...

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New Release! The Toymakers Guild: The Complete Series By Lisabet Sarai @lisabetsarai #Steampunk #Erotica #Kink

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At Randerley Hall, lust is a lubricant to creativity.
Nothing is impossible.
Nothing is forbidden.

Now available as a boxed set – all three volumes in Lisabet Sarai’s intensely erotic steampunk series, The Toymakers Guild!

BOOK INFORMATION

Steampunk Erotica, MF, MM, FF, MFM, FMF, etcetera…
265K words, 821 pages
Amazon KDP
ASIN: ‎ B0CGQMD3S6

BLURB

Defying the repressive morality of the Victorian era, the Toymakers Guild uses advanced technology to fabricate bespoke sexual devices for the discrete pleasure of select clients. Its members are not only brilliant engineers but also sexual renegades seeking freedom from the prudish society that surrounds them.

Nineteen-year-old prodigy Gillian Smith arrives at Randerley to apply for an apprenticeship in the Guild. With her technical abilities and her lascivious temperament, she is eminently suited to join the Master Toymaker’s close-knit band of uninhibited erotic artisans. Gillian flourishes among the Toymakers, designing and implementing ever-more-outrageous carnal contraptions. Each voluptuous commission she completes, each sensual adventure she enjoys, binds her more tightly to the Guild and to the perverse, tortured genius who is its founder.

If you like brilliant, wanton women and kinky steam punk sex toys, dive into the alternate universe of the The Toymakers Guild.

BUY LINKS

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CGQMD3S6/
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CGQMD3S6/
https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0CGQMD3S6/
https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0CGQMD3S6
Free on Kindle Unlimited!

Add on Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/198043949-the-toymakers-guild

Add on BookBub –
https://www.bookbub.com/books/the-toymakers-guild-the-complete-series-by-lisabet-sarai

GUEST POST

Clockwork and Concupiscence

I’ve always felt an affinity for the Victorian period. I was wearing high-necked blouses with cameos, long flowing skirts, and lace-up boots in my teens, long before they were fashionable. (The corsets came later…!) With my long hair parted in the middle and pulled back into a bun, I could well have been one of the heroines in the books I loved so much.

I was also a science geek from my earliest days. I received my first microscope when I was five, and my first chemistry set at seven. I entered every science fair. In seventh grade, I won grand prize on a televised science quiz show.

So it’s hardly surprising I’ve become a devotee of steam punk. I’ve been in love with this strange meld of science fiction and Victoriana for as long as I can remember – long before steam punk even had a name.  When I was in high school, I devoured H.G. Wells and H. Rider Haggard, and shared a Sherlock Holmes obsession with my dad. Later, I marveled at Neal Stephenson’s The Diamond Age and more recently, I discovered Gordon Dahlquist’s incredible The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters.

I’ve written a number of steam punk short stories for anthologies, as well as a full length novel, Rajasthani Moon. All these tales, though, were set in Asia rather than in the British Isles. I think I was afraid I’d make errors my UK readers would notice if I tried setting a story in Queen Victoria’s home country. In my steam punk trilogy The Toymakers Guild I finally bit the bullet and wrote an English steam punk novel. I had a lot of help with details from my critique group at the Erotica Readers & Writers Association, but of course I take responsibility for any residual mistakes.

I just hope you’ll find the story so exciting, you won’t notice them!

EXCERPT

X rated

“Enough!” she said, pushing herself into a half-sit. “Enough foreplay. I’ve been nearly two weeks without your cocks. I want you inside me.”

Rafe swung his legs onto the bed so he could stretch out beside her.

She reached out to capture his steely erection and gave it a squeeze. He felt bigger and harder than she remembered. He moaned in response.

Jeremiah crawled up the other side, between her body and the wall, and lay on his side, his head propped up on his hand. His luscious dark cock prodded her thigh, streaking her pale skin with pre-cum. Without relinquishing her grip on Rafe’s member, she stroked Jeremiah’s shaft, savouring the way the velvet-soft skin slid over the steel beneath.

“Oh, Jill! That’s marvellous!” Rafe murmured. “Though if you keep it up, I’ll spend faster than a ruptured cistern.”

“I’m not sure I can hold on either.” Jeremiah gritted his teeth as she ran her thumb over the knob, then tickled the sensitive ridge underneath. “But we’ll do our best for your sake. Who do you want first?”

“That should be you, Jerry, given that I got first taste.”

“No, it’s Jill’s choice.”

Heart racing like a runaway locomotive, Gillian looked from one man to the other. “I don’t want to choose. I want you both inside me.”

Jeremiah bolted upright, his eyes wide. “At the same time?”

She nodded, amused by his apparent shock.

Rafe rolled off the bed and onto his feet, grinning broadly. He knew her better than the Jamaican did. After all, they’d shared the Master’s aphrodisiac wine.

“I – um – how…?”  Jeremiah’s habitual poise had utterly fled. Despite his carnal aptitude, it was clear that certain things were outside the realm of his experience.

“Lie on your back,” Jill instructed. “You’re thicker than Rafe, so I think I’d rather have you in my cunny.” She scooted toward the outside edge of the mattress to give him room, then quickly removed her drawers. “This time, at least,” she added mischievously.

Jeremiah made an arousing picture, stretched out with his magnificent prick pointed toward the ceiling. Kneeling, Gillian straddled him and aligned her slit with the pinkish head. She lowered her body just enough to let her lower lips brush over the tip, then tilted her pelvis a few times to coat him with her juices.

The man below her groaned. “Don’t play with me,” he begged. “Take me, before it’s too late.”

She bent to press a brief kiss to Jeremiah’s succulent mouth. “I’m sure you can manage to control yourself,” she told him. As slowly she could manage, inch by careful inch, she let herself sink down, impaling herself on his cock.

After her weeks of chastity, her cunny was tight and almost unbearably sensitive. Jeremiah’s substantial bulk slid across her inner walls, stretching and opening her in the most delicious way imaginable. Her memories of their two previous couplings were not in error. The fit was perfect, filling her to the hilt and stimulating every nerve, without the slightest hint of pain.

“Oh, God, Jill! I can’t believe how good you feel.” He grasped her hips and arched up, burying himself more deeply.

Gillian clenched her cunt-muscles around his shaft. Jeremiah’s cock swelled and shuddered inside her. “Don’t move yet,” she said. “And please, don’t spend. I want us all to come together.” She flopped onto her hands and knees, her face close enough to Jeremiah’s for her to claim another quick kiss, then looked over her shoulder at Rafe.

“You know what to do, my dear.”

The wiry journeyman nodded. “Do you have anything I can use for lubricant?” he asked.

Gillian considered the question. Why hadn’t she visited the kitchen after dinner? She shook her head, annoyed that she hadn’t prepared more carefully for this evening. “I’m sorry.”

“Never mind.” He flashed her an angelic smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”

She let her head fall onto Jeremiah’s chest in order to elevate her arse. His skin was warm and slightly damp with sweat. She could hear the Jamaican’s heartbeat, fast and regular. She could feel the same pulse in the cock embedded in her quim. She sensed his tension, the near-irresistible desire to thrust, but he managed to remain still.

Thank you, she thought. Thank you both.

REVIEWS

The Journeyman’s Trial, The Toymakers Guild Book 2

Although set in the Victorian era, the denizens of Randerley Hall are thoroughly modern in the enthusiastic and open way they embrace their sexuality, pushing boundaries with the same vigor and gusto they push the boundaries of science. The members of The Guild embrace all manner of delightfully kinky perversions, while making scientific breakthroughs that are far ahead of their time. “The Journeyman’s Trial” has everything—adventure, romance, intrigue, and sizzling sensuality. I highly recommend you take the plunge and dive in. ~ Lawrence Westerman, Amazon

The Master’s Mark, The Toymakers Guild Book 3

… an excellent example of lusty yet tasteful erotica with an engaging plot and characters the reader actually cares about. The richly crafted steampunk setting, the chemistry between the characters, and the lusty passion heating up every page all come together in this breathtaking finale of the Toymakers series. ~ Michael Swanson, Amazon

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: By Moonlight by Lisabet Sarai @LisabetSarai #Lesbian #Sapphic #Highwayman #Outlaw #EighteenthCentury #Adventure #CrossDressing #GenderBending #Devonshire #KingGeorge #RedCoats

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My blog guest today is Lisabet Sarai, with her exciting new release By Moonlight.

BOOK INFORMATION

Historical Lesbian Erotic Romance
Five flames
16,000 words, 63 pages
Smashwords and Amazon KDP
ISBN (Smashwords): 9798215460337
ASIN: ‎ ‎B0C99C59RY

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

 

Out now! Pinned, by Liz Faraim @FaraimLiz #Giveaway #LGBTQ

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Pinned - Liz Faraim
Liz Faraim has a new lesbian mystery thriller out: Pinned. And there’s a giveaway.

“Rowdy” Randy Cox, a woman staring down the barrel of retirement, is a curmudgeonly blue-collar butch lesbian, who has been single for twenty years and is trying to date again.

At the end of a long, exhausting shift, Randy finds her supervisor, Bryant, pinned and near death at the warehouse where they work. Upon the news of his death, she battles to find a balance between the joys of an exciting new relationship and the struggles of processing her supervisor’s unexpected passing.

The manner of her supervisor’s death leaves Randy unsettled and suspicious as she gets sucked into both a criminal investigation led by the police and an administrative investigation conducted by her employer.

As Randy seeks the truth, trust erodes, key friendships are strengthened, and more loss awaits her.

Warnings: violence, cancer death.

Publisher | Amazon | Universal Buy Link

Goodreads

Giveaway

Liz is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47198/?

Excerpt

“Yeah. You wanna ride the canyon?” Bear asked as she ran her fingers through her wild salt-and-pepper hair. Buck and I both nodded. I stowed my snacks and slid on my helmet.

“Okay. Everybody’s all gassed up, right? Last gas station before the canyon is at the casino.”

“We’re good. Filled up before crossing the causeway. Now stand back,” Bear said as she did a Jackie Gleason style windup before hoisting her short leg over the saddle of her bike.

We’d ridden many miles together and I was happy to see that her bike, a massive 1600cc Road Star, which she had lovingly named Champagne, was still on the road.

Buck fired up her Harley with a bone rattling rumble. I reminded myself to ride in front of her. When I rode behind her the engine noise was too much. I paired up the Bluetooth and Spotify again and picked a 1980s hits channel. Van Morrison sang to me about tupelo honey as I pulled out behind Bear, with Buck taking sweep behind us.

As we rolled slowly by PJ’s, the checker was walking out of the front door, gazing down at her cell phone. She looked up just in time to knock me out one more time with her bright eyes and toothy smile, making my heart race. I had to force myself to focus back on riding as we pulled out of the parking lot onto the main road.

We dodged big groups of college kids on bicycles as we passed through intersections until Dairy Glen turned back into farmland. Long, ramrod-straight county roads that ran between tomato and sunflower fields took us to the next county. The coastal mountains rose in the distance, the only thing to break up the scenery of the flat valley floor except for the occasional barn, well pump, or windmill.

Before long the three of us were weaving our way through the green rolling hills of Capay Valley, the two-lane road gently curving around orchards and dormant row crop fields. I saw some farms with livestock, including a few llamas and emu. We passed through the small towns of Madison, Esparto, and Capay.

Around the bend we got to Brooks, where the small farmhouses gave way to the casino, looming large, overlooking vineyards and the foothills. A massive banner strung across the front advertised an upcoming big-name concert. After the casino we passed through Guinda, and the road narrowed further as the terrain changed from wide-open valley floor to canyon, with steep wooded hillsides. The temperature dropped several degrees in the shade of the hills.

I did my best to stay focused on the ride and the road, but the heart-stopping smile I had gotten earlier in Dairy Glen, those blue eyes locked on mine, were a big distraction. I hadn’t given any woman a second look in years, let alone have one get my heart and mind racing.

Bear cruised along, never in a hurry, taking the curves with ease. I checked my side mirror now and then to make sure Buck was still with us, her aftermarket exhaust pipes echoing through the narrow canyon. There were hardly any other vehicles on the canyon road, though we did pass a few packs of cyclists decked out in spandex, riding fancy road bikes. As we rolled by a group of bikes on a steep climb, I watched one guy’s chiseled leg muscles working hard to pedal. The lady in front of him blew a snot rocket over her shoulder and he didn’t even flinch. I was glad to have an engine between my legs and opened the throttle to climb the last bit of the hill.

At the top of the hill, we zoomed by another gaggle of cyclists, resting after their climb. They were all off their bikes, panting and sweating even in the cold. One lady was throwing up in the bushes. Her jersey said “Veni, Vidi, Vomiti.” The slogan rattled around in my brain, drawing me back to my father trying to teach me Latin as a kid. I figured it meant something like: I came, I saw, I barfed. Another lady stood by, leaning on her bike frame, totally unbothered, sucking on one of those goo energy tubes.

My fingers and toes had started to go numb from the cold despite wearing thick socks and boots, and winter riding gloves. While on a short, straight stretch I took my eyes off the road again to turn on the heated grips. I pressed the button and looked up just in time to see Bear dump her bike over farther than I thought possible. Champagne, nearly on its side, cut over into the opposite lane and back.

I scanned the road for the hazard and had just enough time to register a small rockslide, scree and baseball-sized chunks of rock bouncing down the steep hillside and onto the road. I spotted a small gap and rode straight through, pebbles pinging off my helmet and shooting out from under my tires. I checked my mirror and watched as Buck, who’d had the most time to respond, swung out wide and avoided the whole thing with little fuss. That was Buck for ya.

Bear parked in a turnout a few hundred yards up the road. I pulled in behind her to catch my breath. I yanked off my helmet and pulled the bandana down off my mouth, heart doing somersaults.

Bear slapped her chest and let out a roar that reverberated through the hills and down the canyon.

“Awooo! Jesus Christ! Did you see that, Randy?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t dump it. That was some fine goddamn riding.”

“Wasn’t my first time, won’t be my last.” She gasped and shook her hands out.

“Good thing you’ve been riding since before you could spell motorcycle.”

We laughed wildly, which helped me relax and steady myself as the adrenaline rush faded. Buck pulled in behind us, tires crunching on gravel, and killed her engine.

Author Bio

Liz Faraim
Liz has a full plate between balancing a day job, parenting, writing, and finding some semblance of a social life. In past lives she has been a soldier, a bartender, a shoe salesperson, an assistant museum curator, and even a driving instructor. She focuses her writing on strong, queer, female leads who don’t back down.

Liz transplanted to California from New York over thirty years ago. She now lives in the East Bay Area of California and enjoys exploring nature with her wife and son.

Author Website: https://www.lizfaraim.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/liz.faraim.9/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/FaraimLiz/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20769735.Liz_Faraim

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/?s=faraim&search_type=authors

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Liz-Faraim/author/B092YXBXFV

Other Worlds Ink logo

Chantz, by Tim Rayborn: New queer urban fantasy! #Giveaway

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Chantz - Tim Rayborn

Tim Rayborn has a new queer urban fantasy out (bi, lesbian)
Qwyrk Tales book 3: Chantz.

Qwyrk can’t get a break. Spring is springing, but she’s stuck breaking up drunken faery fights as Beltane approaches. She really wants to take things to the next level with her possibly-probably-girlfriend Holly, but she keeps coming down with a chronic case of chickening out.

And now, her best human friend, Jilly Pleeth, has had a rather odd encounter. While attending a concert by her favorite band, the Mystic Wedding Weasels, Jilly was amazed by their enigmatic singer, Chantz. There’s something downright magical about her voice, something so magical that an evil force from outside this world wants her for nefarious reasons. But will Chantz succumb to its lure?

Chantz is the third in a series of four novels about the comic misadventures of a group of misfits at the edge of normal reality in modern northern England, a world of shadows, Nighttime Nasties, eldritch screaming horrors, appalling neo-Shakespearean sonnets, undead corvids, an abundance of verbal sparring, and… Qwyrk is not an elf, all right? They’re just silly!

Universal Buy Link

Giveaway

Tim is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47279/?

Excerpt

Chantz meme - Tim Rayborn
After a few minutes of meandering on campus, she found a rather expansive and tree-filled enclosure marked by a sign reading “Welcome to St. George’s Field.” Seeing as she could lose herself in its trees, this place would suffice. Wandering in, she found herself strolling through a historic cemetery, which appealed to her gothy aesthetic sensibilities. She sat herself down on a stone bench not far from some centuries-old headstones and tried to focus, to think, to something.

She closed her eyes, trying to recall the feeling of the power flowing through her.

“What are you?” she whispered.

For a time, she felt nothing. Sighing in frustration, she opened her eyes. The field was mercifully unpopulated today, so she decided to risk singing a little tune, an old Irish folk song. She couldn’t remember where she’d learned it. She couldn’t remember much of anything before the last couple of years, to be honest. But there it was, stuck in her head, so she called on it.

It was a simple melody with a short verse and a chorus. She didn’t even know all the words, but that didn’t matter. She just sang the bit she knew over and over. It was soothing, comforting, and connected her to something, as if stirring a memory. She closed her eyes again, allowing it to wash over her. For the first time in a while, she formed a genuine smile. Not a big smile, mind you, she did have her reputation to think of, after all.

As she neared the third repeat, something happened. She heard a voice in her head, one that contrasted with her own. It was more like a momentary flash of sound, in a language she didn’t recognize. It didn’t make her stop singing; in fact, she wanted to continue. After she sang another verse or two, and she heard it again, like a call across some great gap. But was it far away in the distance? Or maybe in time?

How does that even make any sense?

Intrigued, she kept singing, but lowered her voice so as not to attract any onlookers. It would be just like someone to come up in the middle of it and ruin the whole experience, with their chattiness and insipid curiosity.

As it turned out, she was indeed interrupted, but not by any passersby who should have been minding their own business. In her mind’s eye, she saw a face. The face of an old woman. She had long, disheveled grey-streaked hair, and her complexion was wan and weathered, with dark shadows under her eyes. There was almost something cool about her. The face was obscured, as if peering through a fog, and Moirin couldn’t gauge its intent. She wasn’t imagining it; her imagination was good, but not this good. The woman opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words emerged, and if she were the one speaking those foreign words, Moirin wouldn’t have understood her, anyway.

The old woman smiled, but it was an odd smile, and not really a happy one, more like sinister grin. She seemed to want something from Moirin. The smile grew bigger and stretched to unnatural proportions. Her eyes began to lighten, not just the pupils, but the whole of her eyes, greying at first and then fading into a milky white.

Moirin’s heart raced. She stopped singing and gasped. Whatever this thing was, she wanted nothing to do with it. She tried to open her eyes, but they were heavy, almost as if she’d been drugged. Her ears seemed to close up, and the world around her disappeared. She shook her head and tried to stand up, but just like her eyes, her legs no longer worked. She started to panic and opened her mouth again, not to sing but to scream, shout for help, something. But no sound escaped.

The face sneered at her, perhaps enjoying her helplessness. It became ever more twisted and grotesque and opened its mouth again, almost in mockery of Moirin’s inability to do so. A low-pitched wailing sounded from the old woman, a mournful call that seemed to portend something awful. It rose in pitch and volume to a full-on cry, a tuneless and wordless plaint that sounded like something out of an older time. It shook Moirin to the core, but the more she heard it, the more it seemed to invite her, to draw her in, even to tempt her. Whatever the ill intent of this creature invading her mind, and however frightening its call, Moirin felt oddly at home. She began to surrender to its lure, to its awful and seductive pull.

Author Bio

Tim Rayborn
Tim Rayborn has written an astonishing number of books over the past several years. He lived in England for quite some time and has a PhD from the University of Leeds, which he likes to pretend means that he knows what he’s talking about. His generous output of written material covers topics such as music, the arts, history, the strange and bizarre, fantasy and sci-fi, and general knowledge.

He’s also an acclaimed musician. He plays dozens of unusual instruments that quite a few people of have never heard of and often can’t pronounce. He has appeared on over forty recordings, and his musical wanderings and tours have taken him across the US, all over Europe, to Canada and Australia, and to such romantic locations as Marrakech, Istanbul, Renaissance chateaux, medieval churches, and high school gymnasiums.

He currently lives in Washington state (where it rains a lot), surrounded by many books and instruments, as well as with a sometimes-demanding cat. He is rather enthusiastic about good wines, and cooking excellent food.

Author Website: https://timrayborn.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/timrayborn

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/TimRaybornMusicandWriting

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.social/@timrayborn

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rayborn.esoterica/

Author Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/?s=tim+rayborn&search_type=book_search

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Tim-Rayborn/author/B00DWY5J8E

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New Release Blitz! Baby Steps, by Gemma Johns #LGBTQ #FF #Giveaway

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Title: Baby Steps

Author: Gemma Johns

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/07/2023

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 63800

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, lesbian, sexual discovery, surrogacy, children, Australia, fake romance

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Description

Fiercely independent Belle Andrews can’t quite believe where her life has ended up. Belle and Tash always thought they’d have three children, but after nineteen years and two children together, Tash walked out on her and Belle doesn’t want her heart broken ever again.

Now, two years later, they’ve established a positive co-parenting relationship, and having moved on with their lives, both agree they have no need for the embryos they created together.

Georgia has been trying, unsuccessfully, to get pregnant for many years now. She’s about to give up trying and move on. Her doctor told her that her only hope now is a donor embryo.

Belle expects her embryos are the perfect solution, but she soon learns Australian legislation mandates she can only donate to someone she’s in a relationship with.

Belle might have given up on love, but can she pretend to be in love to give someone their dream? And can Georgia pretend to be in a relationship with a woman to get the end result she’s always dreamt of?

Excerpt

Baby Steps
Gemma Johns © 2023
All Rights Reserved

“I thought Tash had the girls tonight?” Nikki asked quietly so that Cora and Ada wouldn’t hear her.

Belle shook her head. “We did a swap. She had something on tonight, probably with her new girlfriend.” Belle knew she was reinforcing what her best friend Nikki already knew—Belle had well and truly moved on from her nineteen-year relationship.

“She’s really got a new girl?”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Emily, I think she said. I don’t know. It surprised me, because she was so full on with Amanda. I thought they were it. But five minutes after their split, there was a bunch of dates with random women, and now there’s Emily. I really don’t care; it’s none of my business, except for the girls.”

Nikki instinctively looked toward the other room, where Belle’s daughters were going crazy, running and jumping. “What do you mean, except for the girls?”

“You know.” Belle followed Nikki’s gaze. “As long as they’re okay, constantly meeting new women in their other mum’s life. Must be hard.”

“Well, it’s not really constant. Hopefully she’ll stay with this one. She was with Amanda for, what? Two years?”

Belle nodded. “Depends who you listen to, but about that. But that’s half of Ada’s life. It just feels like a lot of change. Anyway, it’s irrelevant to me, and leaves me to date whomever I want.”

Nikki sarcastically stated, “Which you really take advantage of.”

The truth was, Belle had no real desire to date, and although she and Tash had split up over two years ago now, Belle had spent her time focusing on the children. She couldn’t say that Tash didn’t focus on the girls, though. Belle and Tash were fortunate that they managed to co-parent so well together, with very little tension between the two of them. Belle would be lying to say it had always been easy. In the early days, her heart broke every time she dropped the children to Tash. Seeing Tash and Amanda playing happy families just months after her relationship with Tash had ended nearly destroyed her. But, with time and perspective, Belle felt more and more comfortable and sometimes found herself even confiding in Tash at the end of a hard day.

Nikki picked up her plate and empty coffee mug and walked to the sink. “I was going to suggest a movie tonight, because I thought you were footloose and fancy free.”

“Why don’t we watch a movie on Netflix?” Belle asked, and Nikki screwed up her face.

“I suppose. Chances are I’ve seen it.”

Belle knew it was true. Nikki practically lived at the cinema.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Gemma Johns has always loved writing and wanted to write a novel since she first discovered how much she loved reading them. Her older sister told her she needed to ‘live a little’ before she wrote a novel. Years later, Gemma has now lived a lot, so finally decided to put pen to paper. Writing fiction is a part time gig for her, and she has a full time job in academia. Gemma lives in Australia with her wife and their five children. You can find Gemma on Facebook.

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One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code!

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Sapphic Seductions Vol. 2 by Lucy Felthouse @CW1985 #LGBTQ+ #Lesbian

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The marvelous Lucy Felthouse is my guest over at the Sweet ‘n Sexy Divas Blog today.

She’s talking about why she writes lesbian stories, and you won’t want to miss a yummy excerpt from her latest collection.

https://sweetnsexydivas.blogspot.com/2023/01/why-i-write-lesbian-stories-by-lucy.html