Old Flames (from Lisabet Sarai)
For most of us, high school is a time of sexual awakening. With all the hormones pouring into our blood, we’re in a near-constant state of excitement. I don’t know how kids are now, but during my high school years, my “sexual” experiences were limited to some steamy kisses and groping. Still, everyone around me seemed to have a heightened awareness of desire, although we knew very little about the details. Flirtation, teasing, crushes, fantasies, conspiracies – every interaction felt edged with erotic possibilities, even if most of these never materialized.
I remember that period with aching affection. In later years, when I’ve reconnected with some of my old flames, I’ve found the original heat still simmered in the background. Most of us are married now, some more than once. There’s no chance of consummating the old adolescent lust, even if it were reciprocal. But somehow, for me at least, the original thrill hasn’t totally dissipated.
Once Upon a Blizzard was loosely inspired by actual relationships from my high school years. As described in the story, there was in fact a triangle involving me and two of my male classmates (though I’m pretty sure that they didn’t have any homoerotic connection). For a time, I was the girlfriend of the taller, more popular, more alpha of the two guys, but I’ve often thought I might have made the wrong choice – especially after he dumped me, exactly as described in the book.
Writing this second-chance romance gave me the opportunity to imagine what might have happened between the beta guy and me, if we’d had the chance to revisit our old connection.
No electricity. No water. Plenty of heat.
Suzanne and Gino have a history going back to high school, but for more than a decade the workaholic CEO has been thousands of miles from her New England home town.
A mistletoe kiss at a Christmas party rekindles the old spark and Suzanne finds some things do indeed get better with age. When Gino rescues her from a blizzard, though, she discovers that she’s not the only love in his life. Gino shares his bed and his colonial-era farm house with taciturn painter Harris Steele.
Snowed in with two lusty men who truly seem to care, she wonders why she’s so determined to return to her lonely West Coast life. Is there really a chance for a holiday happy ending?
Note: this book was previously published by Totally Entwined with the title Almost Home. It has been revised and re-edited for this edition.
The kiss caught her off guard.
One moment Suzanne was standing in the doorway to Helena’s den, scanning the occupants and wondering if she knew anyone at all at this party. The next moment someone twirled her around and fastened a pair of firm lips on hers. Out of instinct or habit, she closed her eyes. The darkness heightened her other senses. Powerful arms circled her body and pulled her against a fuzzy male chest. Her partner’s scent rose around her, a complex mix of soap and musk, evergreen and wood smoke. His tongue teased the seam where her lips met and she let him enter, her self-protective reflexes dulled by his warmth and the glass of merlot she’d downed on her arrival.
His mouth tasted of eggnog and candy canes, appropriately seasonal. He was delicious, in fact—not just his mouth but the quiet confidence of his probing tongue, the sculpted muscle she felt under his sweater, his bold hands wandering across her back to her buttocks. She hadn’t enjoyed a kiss like this in a long time.
She’d felt chilled and tense ever since her plane touched down in frigid Boston but now her muscles began to unknot. He was a miniature sun, melting her, turning her languid and dreamy. She clutched at his solid form and returned his kiss, trading heat for heat. Tropical colors paraded behind her eyelids—fuschia, lime, peach, and aqua—shimmering like the water in her pool back home. She even began to perspire, her long-sleeved velvet dress suddenly too warm for comfort.
He pulled her full hips against his lean ones. A tell-tale lump, wonderfully hard, pressed against her belly. Her panties and tights dampened, too.
Normally she would have resisted but stress and alcohol made her susceptible. She allowed the kiss to lengthen and deepen, sinking into the pure pleasure of it.
A smattering of applause brought her back to awareness. “Whoa there!” hooted one of the guests. “You two want some privacy?”
Suzanne broke away from the man who had ambushed her. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Embarrassment added a sharp edge to her voice.
The dark haired man favored her with a grin. “Mistletoe,” he said, pointing upward. Sure enough, a cluster of green leaves and pale berries dangled from the door frame. He could scarcely contain his laughter.
That laugh. That voice. Something tickled Suzanne’s memory. “Gino!” she exclaimed, finally, chuckling herself. “I can’t believe it! Still acting like we’re in high school.”
“I couldn’t resist, Suzy Q.” The old nickname made her blush. He hadn’t relinquished her hand. “In fact, if you don’t move, I’m very likely to kiss you again.”
Kinky Literature – TBA
Amazon US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BPMPZ7NG
Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BPMPZ7NG
Smashwords – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1263368
Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/once-upon-a-blizzard-lisabet-sarai/1142821106
Kobo – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/once-upon-a-blizzard
Apple Books – https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6445045725
Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/65004121-once-upon-a-blizzard
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, and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh