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 – more than fifty single author titles, plus dozens of short stories in various erotic anthologies, including the Lambda winner Where the Girls Are and the IPPIE Best Erotic Book of 2011, Carnal Machines. Her gay scifi erotic romance Quarantine won a Rainbow Awards 2012 Honorable Mention.
Lisabet has more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her chosen genre. She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia with her indulgent husband and two exceptional felines, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her creative writing.
For more information about Lisabet and her writing, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com). She also hangs out at the group blog Oh Get a Grip (http://ohgetagrip.blogspot.com), writes monthly reviews for Erotica Revealed (http://www.eroticarevealed.com) and contributes to the ERWA blog (http://erotica-readers.blogspot.com).
In My Father’s Footsteps
By Lisabet Sarai
A common question in author interviews is “How did you get started writing?” In my case, I’ve been writing more or less forever. My first stories and poems date from third grade. (I skipped second grade, so I was about seven.) During elementary school I wrote romantic and adventure tales, at least three plays (including one slightly racy romp about the Greek gods), and lots of poetry. In high school, I started a ghost novel (which I sometimes think about finishing). In college and grad school, I switched to science fiction and erotic fantasy.
Even before I started writing stories, though, I was exposed to storytelling. My dad had a fantastic imagination, and he used it to concoct all sorts of tales for my younger brother and me. Many of his stories featured magic and monsters. I vividly recall one chilling tale in which the hero (a young man named Thomas Karl Sefney) encounters an evil, octopus-like creature with a hundred arms, who is guarding the treasure. Thomas has exactly one minute to touch each of the demon’s appendages with his wand of power. If he fails, he’ll die. I still remember my breathless excitement as my father described in thrilling detail the hero’s desperate efforts to fulfill this quest and break the curse.
Looking back, I realize that my father’s storytelling has had a significant influence on mine. My paranormal stories have some of the same intensity as his, the sense of staking everything in a battle of power and wills. This is especially true in my latest book, The Eyes of Bast. The climax in this shifter tale is fierce and a bit bloody, as my heroine Shaina, a seemingly ordinary woman who’s not aware of her own supernatural abilities, struggles against a seductive, age-old sorceress to save her cursed lover. By the time I finished writing this scene, I was sweating and my heart was pounding hard. Even though the tale’s a romance, with a mandatory happy ending, that scene is enough to make you wonder just how good will manage to triumph.
Blurb
Trust your heart. Follow your dreams.
Shaina Williams' grandmother bequeathed her that wisdom, along with a old pendant from the Islands, carved from an ocelot's tooth. When instinct tells Shaina to visit the feral cat trap she'd 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 errant 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'd 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.
Excerpt
Shadows filled the apartment. The lamps were still off. As my eyes adapted, however, I saw a male figure seated in the chair by the window, hunched over with his head in his hands.
“Tom!” Rushing to his side, I gathered him in my arms, his curly head pillowed on my breasts. Although he didn’t resist, he also didn’t reciprocate. Instead, he slumped against me, motionless, as though all the energy had drained from his powerful body. I barely felt the electricity that normally kindled when our skins touched.
His scent rose around me and my pussy twitched to life, but I knew that right now, sex wasn’t what Tom needed.
“It’s okay. Everything will be okay.” I stroked his hair, unsure how to counter his apparent weakness. “I’ll take care of you, Tom. Don’t worry… You’ll be fine…”
“Fine?” His voice was bitter, edged with despair. “I’m cursed. Damned. How could I ever be fine?”
He raised his face to mine. Tears brimmed in his luminous eyes. A vast wave of pity surged through me. I bent to kiss him, trying to pour my strength into him.
Our mouths met. Desire flickered underneath my boundless compassion. I let my tongue play along the soft seam where his lips pressed together. After momentary resistance, he opened to me, allowing me to take what I craved. At first, he was passive. I persevered, though, and before long, he was kissing me in return, running his hands along my arms and gently fondling my breasts. My body awakened, little bursts of lightning racing through my limbs to my dampening sex.
The night came back to me, in vivid detail. I remembered the joy, the sense of connection. This man was made for me. I had to save him.
Tom finally broke the kiss and leaned back with a sigh. “Ah, Shaina! I should never have allowed you near me. But I was so very lonely… I wasn’t thinking straight. Now I’ve put you in danger too.”
“Danger? What kind of danger?” I reached over to flick the switch on my reading lamp, so I could read his expressions. Then I seated myself cross-legged at his feet and clasped his hands in mine. “Tell me, Tom. Tell me everything.”
“You will not believe me.”
“How could I not believe after—after what I saw this morning?”
His eyebrows knitted together. “I never wanted you to see—I was careless…”
“But I did see. And now I know, at least something about you. But I don’t know enough to help you out of whatever trouble you’re in. Tell me the whole truth. I promise I’ll keep it private, if that’s what you want. And I promise I won’t be shocked.”
Tom’s lush mouth twisted in a grimace of disgust. “You might not be able to keep that promise. But never mind. You’ve asked. I’ll tell you.”
He stared off into the distance, above my head. “I was born in a small town in coastal Maine, about seven years ago.”
“Seven years?”
“I was born a cat.”
I choked down my cry of surprise. How could it be?
“Yes. I was born under a wharf. I spent the first six months of my life as a black kitten, a stray living off the scraps from the fishing boats and clam shacks. Then she caught me and made me her prisoner.”
“She?”
“I don’t even want to utter her name. There’s danger in the very word. She is a witch, centuries old, a practitioner of the darkest arts—the epitome of evil. Out walking one evening along the rocky shore, she caught sight of me and wanted me as her familiar. It was easy for her to lure me into her clutches.
“At first she just used me to facilitate her spells. The rumored powers of black cats are more than just legend. Before long, though, she began to experiment.”
* * *
This week I’m running a blog tour to celebrate the general release of The Eyes of Bast. Totally Bound has a giveaway on their website in conjunction with the tour. Just to sweeten the pot, I’m adding a couple of other prizes. Leave a comment with your email and you could win this statue of Bastet from the Boston Museum of Fine Arts. Or if you’d prefer, I’ll send you a brace of sexy paranormal stories from my back list: Hot Spell and Rough Weather.
[Insert image of Bastet here]
Get your copy of The Eyes of Bast today!
Totally Bound: https://www.totallybound.com/the-eyes-of-bast
