Romance Books

Lisabet Sarai’s new alien romance, Bodies of Light, is now LIVE! #GuestPost #NewRelease

Erotic Energy

For most of my career, I’ve been writing erotic stories which include explicit sex. Now, many people think that sex is the ultimate physical experience, that it’s all about body parts, stimulation of erogenous zones, pleasurable sensations and ultimate release. That’s not my view. 

Eroticism begins in the mind. If this were not true, why would certain activities be arousing in one person’s company, boring or even aversive with someone else? When I think back over my rich and varied sexual experiences, I don’t recall the detailed sensations, but rather, the emotions I felt and the connections I enjoyed with my partners. My personal slogan tries to capture this observation: imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

When I began writing Bodies of Light, originally published in an anthology of space-themed romance, I tried, as I usually do, to put a different spin on the tale. Love scenes usually occur in the physical world, but what if you’re making love to beings without bodies? What if you encountered aliens who were pure energy? Could a human woman love such creatures? Could they return that love? And if so, how would they express it in a realm where matter was not relevant?

These are the questions I explore in Bodies of Light. Nearly a century ago, Einstein demonstrated that matter and energy were inter-convertible. An entity composed of energy could take on material form, creating a body out of the light that was his fundamental nature so that he could express physical love. Perhaps, though, this experience would be far less satisfying than connecting and exchanging unadulterated erotic energy. 

This realization lies at the heart of my heroine’s journey into an unlimited universe.

Scifi Ménage Erotic Romance
Five flames 
17,800 words, 63 Kindle pages
Smashwords and AmazonKDP
ISBN (Smashwords): 9798215834923


Can you make love to beings without bodies?

Physicist Dr. Christine Monroe has devoted her lonely life to research on hyper-space travel. Her continued failure leads her to sign on to the Archimedes, a sub-light-speed mission aimed at establishing a colony in the Sirius-B system. Waking from suspended animation, she discovers that the ship is wildly off course and the rest of the crew are dead due to equipment failure. 

At first she thinks the two virile strangers who show up on the ship are figments of her imagination – erotic hallucinations created by isolation and stress. However, Alyn and Zed are solid, real, and ready to sacrifice their lives for the strong woman they’ve found stranded in deep space. As her ship begins to disintegrate, Christine must choose between the planet she was sent to save and the two aliens she’s come to cherish. 

Note: This book was previously published by Totally Entwined. This new edition has been revised and re-edited.

Tag Line: Love travels faster than light.


The alarm buzzed in Christine’s ears like an angry wasp. Electric current crackled along her skin, goading her long-dormant nerves into responsiveness. Her attempt to inhale turned into a racking cough as her body expelled the last traces of fluid from her lungs. Her eyes flickered open. Dim as it was, the blue-tinged light within the suspension pod made her head pound.

Her limbs felt weighted with lead. She tried to wiggle her fingers. They were stiff, as though encrusted with rust. The gel that cradled her gradually warmed. As it did, her joints grew more flexible. Little by little the pod thawed her long-immobile body. 

As soon as she could lift her arm, she groped for the release switch. Her movements were clumsy and slow. The curved hatch over her face slid back, exposing her to the cooler air outside. Goosebumps rose on her bare skin. She pulled the tubes from her arms and pushed aside the tangle of cables strapped around her brow. When she struggled to sit up, a wave of dizziness crashed over her. She waited for the vertigo to subside.

The fog in her brain thinned a bit. She remembered where she was—the Archimedes, en route to Sirius 2. Had they arrived, then? Listening closely, she heard nothing but her own breathing.

The suspension bay was located near the center of the ship in order to protect it from possible meteor damage to the hull. There were no viewports. It hardly mattered. Christine was a physicist, not an astronomer or a pilot. Even if she could have seen the stars, she couldn’t have read them. She needed to get to the bridge, to figure out how far they were from their destination and whether it was time to revive the rest of the crew. 

She swung her legs out of the coffin-like suspension capsule and took a stab at standing. Her knees buckled when she transferred her weight, leaving her slumped on the rubber-clad floor. Her head swam. When her vision cleared, she tried again. This time she managed to stay upright although she had to lean on the capsule for support.

Christine took a deep breath. She felt the strength returning gradually to her body. Her skin was slimy with residue from the nutrient gel that had nourished her inanimate form during the months —or was it years?—since the ship had departed.

At point-nine lightspeed, the maximum velocity of which the Archimedes was capable, the journey to the Sirius cluster should have taken almost thirteen years. Was that long wait really over? It had seemed like the blink of an eye. A kind of rosy haze hung in her mind, a sense of peace and well-being, but she couldn’t remember any details about her time in stasis.

She surveyed the nineteen other capsules arranged around the perimeter of the bay. She seemed to be the only one the ship had awakened. She stumbled over to the closest pod—Ravin Conter, the xenobiologist and her assigned partner—and peered in through the curved glass. She could just make out his rugged features, pale and composed.

Something wasn’t right, though. Her thoughts still disordered by the transition, it took her ten seconds to put her finger on the problem. The capsule should have been lit from within by the same low-intensity blue as her own had been. However, there was no interior illumination. Only the ambient light of the bay made Ravin’s face visible.

“Ravin!” she cried. Her voice woke hollow echoes in the metal-walled chamber. The vital sign indicators on the control panel were blank. She keyed the emergency revival sequence into the controls on the top of the pod. Nothing happened.  There was no power running to the capsule. It was dead, and so, it was obvious, was the person within. 


She stared at Ravin’s naked form, cradled in blue-green gel and twined in wires and hoses. How could he be dead? What had happened? Christine whirled around to check the next capsule—Amber Stone, ship’s doctor and the closest thing she had to a friend. Like Ravin’s, Amber’s pod was dark and unresponsive.

Fighting down her panic, Christine examined the remaining suspension capsules. All appeared to have malfunctioned. All the occupants lay in darkness within, perfectly-preserved corpses.

“No, no—please, no!” she keened, sinking to her knees in the center of the room. “Oh, please…” Her eyes burned as tears welled up for the first time in years. 

She had not really been close to anyone on the Archimedes—she and Ravin had been paired solely on the basis of genetic and psychological compatibility—but she had liked and respected them all. They’d had the courage to volunteer for Earth’s first interstellar mission, to risk their lives for the future of humanity. Hell, they’d fought hard for the opportunity, beating the hundreds of other candidates. They’d endured the two years of grueling preparation. They’d climbed willingly into the suspension capsules knowing they wouldn’t emerge for years—if ever. Each had left his or her life on Earth behind, well aware that the odds of the mission succeeding were small and that, even if it did succeed, they could never return.

Now they were gone and, with them, all hope of establishing a colony. The mission was a failure—one final failure in the long series that had been her life.

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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 (, 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, BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email list here: