Sometimes romance can be hell – #Halloween #PNR #FreeBook

By Lisabet Sarai

Happy Halloween!

For my favorite holiday, I am giving away lots of treats. Over at my personal blog Beyond Romance, I’ve got two seasonally appropriate free reads for every visitor. I’m also announcing the winner of my Haunted October giveaway grand prize. 

During the past four weeks, I’ve been celebrating the month of magic by featuring excerpts from my many paranormal titles. But I realized this afternoon that I haven’t shared anything from my paranormal BDSM erotic romance Damned If You Do – even though the book reaches it dramatic climax on Halloween.

Better late than never; I’ll post a bit from the Halloween scene today. And I will give away a free copy of this sexy novella to anyone who asks me in a comment on this post! Just be sure to include your email address so I can find you.

 

Blurb

Sometimes romance can be hell

Wendy Dennison is tired of being a starving author. The royalties from her critically acclaimed romance novels barely pay her bills. Her devoted agent Daniel Rochester may be smart and sexy, but he can't get her the sales she needs. Then a charismatic stranger appears at her coffee shop table, promising her fame and commercial success, as well as the chance to live out her dreams of erotic submission. But at what cost?

Nothing you can't afford to lose, my dear.

Seduced by the enigmatic Mister B, she signs his infernal contract. He becomes both her Master and her coach, managing her suddenly flourishing career as well as encouraging her lusts. Under her mentor’s nefarious influence, she surrenders to temptation and has sex with Daniel. The casual encounter turns serious when she discovers her mild mannered agent has a dominant side. As the clock ticks down to her blockbuster release and Mister B prepares to claim her soul, Wendy must choose either celebrity and wealth, or obscurity and true love.

Excerpt

The invitations hadn’t specified costumes, but some of the guests came dressed up for the holiday. In one corner, a gaunt zombie carried on an animated conversation with a naughty nurse. Over by the buffet, a chubby figure in a toga and laurel wreath heaped his plate with sushi, Chinese spare ribs and marinated artichokes. A vampire downed a bottle of beer then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, while a spike-tailed demon, masked and cloaked in red, had a circle of stylishly dressed women in stitches with his bawdy jokes.

Was that Mister B? She didn’t think so. He’d told her that he’d meet her at the gathering, but she was quite sure he hadn’t arrived yet. She usually knew when he was in the room by the tingling between her legs.

Gretchen wore a lion tamer’s outfit, complete with whip. They’d discussed having Wendy appear in leather or in latex, but finally settled on a simple black satin cocktail dress. A diamond-studded choker around Wendy’s neck was the only nod to the content of her books.

That had been a gift from Mister B. She’d tried without success to refuse it.

“You’re not my Master anymore,” she’d protested. “I’m not going to wear your collar.”

“Don’t worry, my dear. That’s not my intention. I just wanted you to have something special—to show you how much I value your contributions to our partnership.” He’d paused, licking his lips. “As well as to mark our transition to its next phase.”

His words had sent a chill skittering through her. She’d understood his meaning. Tonight was her last chance to exercise the escape clause. Did that mean that tonight, he’d harvest her soul?

She didn’t dare ask. When she tried to formulate the question, it just sounded silly.

The first few hours of the party passed in a blur. Reporters assailed her with questions loaded with innuendo. Fans showered her with praise. She signed what felt like a hundred copies of the book and posed for selfies with pretty much everyone in attendance. Harbison Frost’s own photographer took dozens of more formal shots of her with various literary luminaries, in front of the huge blow up of the Cherished Chains cover that adorned one wall. An enlargement of her black and white head shot from the back cover stood opposite, a three-quarters view of her face wearing an ecstatic expression, with unfocused eyes and parted lips. Wendy found it overly blatant. The woman in the photo looked like she was having an orgasm.

Want a copy? Just ask for one, in the comments below. Be sure to include your email address!