I’ve been publishing romance and erotica for more than fifteen years, but I’ve never had anything like a “best seller”. I shouldn’t complain—I have loyal readers and receive lots of five star reviews—but commercial success has eluded me.

I’m not alone. The majority of my author peers are in the same boat. We slave away at our computers, pouring our passions onto the page. We devote scarce cash and scarcer time to the uncomfortable task of blowing our own horns. We blog, tweet, facebook (is that a verb?), run tours and giveaways, make guest appearances (like this one), all in the hope that readers will notice us and buy our books.

Sometimes it feels like a pretty thankless effort. I’m willing to bet that most of my colleagues have fantasized about being the next FSOG. TV appearances. Movie deals. Parties with the elite. And of course cash, lots of cash, enough to pay the bills with plenty left over for luxuries. I’m certainly guilty of this sort of day dreaming. It’s a heady vision.

Rationality returns after a few minutes. I’d never want to give up my day job. If I were famous, I’d probably be forced to. Plus, given the heat level in my work, I’m not sure I want the whole world to know who I really am. Best selling authors have to be seen, and there’s some comfort in being invisible.

Still, fame and fortune sparkle, seemingly just out of reach, whenever I release a new book. And I can’t help wonder what it would be like if those fantasies came true.

Those imaginings were the genesis of my new BDSM erotic romance, Damned If You Do. My heroine writes fabulously kinky romance novels, but for the most part labors in obscurity. Then one afternoon, a mysterious stranger offers her the success of which she dreams.

He keeps his part of the bargain. As her sales soar and her star rises, though, she discovers the down side of getting what you thought was your heart’s desire.

Here’s the blurb and an exclusive excerpt for you to enjoy.

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.

Exclusive Excerpt (Rated R)

“Gwen, my dear! What are you doing out here?”

Mister B didn’t come from inside. She would have heard the party noise as he opened the door. He simply appeared beside her, as he had that first day in the coffee shop.

He wore a tuxedo with a purple brocade cummerbund, and shiny black shoes with pointed toes. His tourmaline eyes gleamed in the semi-darkness. When he strode closer to settle an arm around her shoulders, his movements had a taut, ferocious energy, like the tread of a panther. Despite her tiredness, arousal flickered through her, curling into a glowing knot in her pelvis.

“Too many people in there,” she replied, extricating herself from his companionable embrace. “And I’ve drunk too much as well. I wish I were at home, away from all this.”

“I’m afraid I can’t grant you that wish, not tonight. We have business to attend to—as I’m quite certain you recall.” His chuckle sent a chill down her spine. “You wanted fame, my dear. This sort of public performance is part of the price. However, I should think you’d find some consolation in your bank balance.”

He stepped behind her, slipped his arms around her waist, and pulled her buttocks toward his lean hips. He was hard. He was always hard. Wendy cursed her traitorous body as excitement flooded her pussy. She was like Pavlov’s dog, salivating in response to a meaningless stimulus.

He rubbed his erection against her satin-sheathed buttocks. She struggled not to squirm. Honestly, she didn’t want to encourage him. But then, what she wanted hardly mattered.

“So tonight…you’re going to take my soul?” she murmured as he sucked and nipped at the tender skin of her neck, just above his diamond-studded gift.

“Don’t think about that part, my sweet. Focus on the pleasure.”  One of his hands crept up to cradle her breast. The other raised her skirt.  He hooked the elastic of her lacy panties and dragged them down to bare her rear cheeks.

“No, don’t…” She struggled in his clutches as he exposed her. “Please, not here!” A finger slid down her rear crevice and tickled her sphincter. “No—wait…!”

“I’m going to consummate our agreement in the most appropriate manner, my dear. With my cock splitting your tight ass.”

“No!” Somehow she found the strength to wrench herself from his grip. She backed away, into the corner where the rail made a right angle. “Get away from me!”

Mister B put his hands on his hips and shook his head, his expression one of wounded disbelief. “I’m surprised at you. After all we’ve been through together, you reject me? Do you really want to give it all up? The adoring fans? The five star reviews? The fat advances and the hefty royalties?”

“Um…no, no, that’s not what I’m saying…”  Panic swept through her. To lose everything she’d worked for?  Unthinkable.

~~~

Get your own copy of Damned If You Do at your favorite bookseller:

Amazon US:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0727RZ39B/
Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0727RZ39B/
Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/damned-if-you-do-lisabet-sarai/1126292735?ean=2940157395711Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/th/en/ebook/damned-if-you-do-10
Excessica: https://goo.gl/dZN3dr
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35009284-damned-if-you-do

And leave a comment on this blog, with your email, for a chance at one of three $10 gift certificates or three copies of my five star BDSM romance The Gazillionaire and the Virgin. For more ways to win, check out my release day post, here:
https://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com/2017/04/out-today-damned-if-you-do-bdsm-pnr.html

About Me

LISABET SARAI occasionally tackles other genres, but BDSM will always be her first love. Every one of her nine novels includes some element of power exchange, while her D/s short stories range from mildly kinky to intensely perverse.

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 and finally, on Twitter.

Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

UPDATE: So, the winner is…Debbie Kolins!

* * * * *

The New Release

Just a quick reminder! I do have a brand new release! If you love lusty, sexy stories with plenty of BDSM and menage interplay, well, this one’s right up your alley! Just click on the cover here!

The Contest

Leave a comment—an answer to the question below—for your chance to win one of the following recent releases…

The Question

If a TV show that’s been off the air for a while could have a reunion show,  which one would you love to see back?

You know I have this great big backlist of books I have to republish. Begging For It is one of them. I’ve been hunting for artwork like a crazy person, spending way too much time looking through pictures for things that might suit my stories, or could be massaged in some way to work, and then I found this picture, and it’s absolutely perfect just the way it is.

TJ’s not a submissive looking for a Dom. She’s a woman who needs pain to get off, and who better than a Dom to do it? There’s plenty of kink inside this story. Plenty of angst, too, because you know she has a problem that causes her to be the way she is. Best part of the story? Cross, my Dom, who’s fated to be with TJ in ways she won’t fully understand until the end. I hope you’ll pick up a copy this weekend. I’d love to hear what you think!

Begging For It

She needs punishment…before she deserves pleasure.

Tragedy scarred TJ Lipton. Now, the only way she can find pleasure is when its delivered with a heavy-handed dose of S&M. But finding a lover who can give her what she needs proves an elusive quest—until she finds the sex club La Forge and a Dom named Cross McNally.

Cross understands all too well what drives TJ. He takes command of her body to give her everything she needs—restraint, the stinging kiss of a flogger, the thrill of a three-way—a sexual adventure that pulls her beyond her painful past and has her begging for more of his tender brand of domination.

Get your copy here!

An excerpt…

“Have you and Tanner been friends a long time?”

“Long enough.”

She swirled her hips to wet the tip of his cock. “He the guy you had fuck my mouth last night?”

“Yeah, does it bother you, putting a face to the dick?”

A shallow pulse forced him inside an inch. “Yes, I didn’t want him last night. I wanted your cock.”

“I was a little busy giving you what you really needed.”

He said it in a gruff, masculine tone that clued her to the fact he was just as tightly wound as she was. She pressed down, taking the cap inside another two inches. Her thighs flexed, and she fought the urge to shove downward. She wanted to savor the stretch—this fuck had been a long time coming. And because she was a little annoyed that he’d made her wait, she asked, “Do you like fucking?”

His smile was a quick, tight flash. “One of my favorite things to do.”

Her nipples were hard, aching, but she resisted the urge to cup them. She wanted his hands there but wasn’t able to command him. Her voice would lack strength. She feared he’d laugh if she tried because she shook with need. “Why didn’t you take me? You knew I wanted you to do it.”

“I told you, baby. It was about you. What you needed. And I wanted to build your trust.”

She came up but missed the solid heat of him filling her and pushed quickly down again, taking him deeper. Sweet Lord, she was wet. He slid inside with a succulent sound. “You don’t need my trust. Not for this,” she said breathlessly. “You can have me. Have me any way you want, so long as you do one little thing for me. You know what that is.”

“Have you any time?” he asked, his lips pulling away from his teeth. “More than just today?”

She shook her head but dug her fingers into his chest as she gave him another shallow stroke. “Don’t go getting possessive. I don’t need promises. You don’t want mine.”

“You don’t want to see me again?”

Her mouth gaped as she slid down a little farther, almost dizzy with relief, feeling as though every inch she consumed deepened their emotional connection. She shook her head, waging an internal battle for control. “I don’t want to make plans. Don’t want promises,” she lied. “But I wouldn’t mind you knocking at my door some night.”

His jaw flexed. “For a quick fuck but not a date.”

“This isn’t good for you?” She was wetter now, and the glides were faster, getting deeper, her breaths shortened, and her face flushed with heat. His strong hands took some of the burden from her straining thighs.

“This isn’t enough for me, TJ,” he said, slamming her down his cock now. “I want the whole woman.”

She slowed, shuddering hard. “That’s the problem,” she said, smiling with tears in her eyes. “I’m not whole.”

His palms slid up to cup her breasts, gently kneading them. “Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me why.”

She blinked away the moisture. “Just be quiet. Please.”

His lips closed, forming a thin line.

Closing her eyes to his disapproval, she continued to rock, but even though her body melted all around him, even though arousal curled inside her, she knew her limits. Her thighs gave way, and she sank against him. “Cross?”

“Open your eyes when you speak to me.”

A shiver hit her hard at his change of tone. She gave him a glare but knew the corners of her mouth were pulling downward, and that her bottom lip was trembling.

“What do you need?”

Her shoulders fell. Her head bent. “For you to take over. For you to punish me.”

“Do things my way?”

She nodded.

“Will those legs hold you up if I tell you that you have to stand?”

She nodded again then gave a little gasping hiccup. She hated being so needful, so out of control. He’d think she was a complete basket case, but maybe that was already too late.

His hands cupped her ass, and he lifted her. His cock slid from inside her and bobbed against his belly. “Go stand under the hooks.”

Her nipples spiked. Fluid dripped from inside her, and he knew because a fingertip followed the trail. He brought her moisture to her mouth and painted her lips with her own arousal.

TJ moaned and leaned down to kiss him.

His hand fisted in her hair to anchor her close, and his lips roamed over hers, rubbing hard, before he pulled her hair to raise her head. “Go now,” he rasped.

Even though she trembled with need, she pushed off him and slid from the mattress. The bed groaned behind her. His footsteps shadowed hers.

When she stood beneath the hooks, she raised her arms obediently and let him close the padded cuffs around her wrists. With her now secured, he walked to the wall and pulled down a handle to an apparatus where the ends of the chains were wrapped around a small wheel. He began to turn it, tightening the sturdy linked chain above her until her heels left the floor.

“Higher,” she grated out.

“You want to be stretched? Like the girl at the club?”

She nodded, and he winched her higher until she swayed on her toes.

“If this gets to be too much, if your arms go numb, you’ll tell me.”

She nodded, but it was a lie. Numbness would be a blessing. Pain would be rapturous. Already she felt a dull ache swell in her shoulders along with the lump burning the back of her throat.

Cross went to the dresser and pulled open a drawer. Poised on her toes, she peered down to see an array of implements. He picked up a flogger but discarded it. Then another. He drew a finger across the suede leather ends then glanced up at her. “I’m in charge now.”

She nodded, even though he hadn’t worded it as a question. Licking her bottom lip, she whispered, “Yes Sir.”

Okay, so my hair’s shorter than that now, but you’ll recognize me still, I think. Short, chubby blonde in glasses. Oh wait, there will probably be a ton of us there. How about look for the one who’s constantly smiling? I can’t help myself. I think I was told that smiling was less work than frowning when I was a kid… And I’m lazy like that…

If you can’t make the booksigning, or want something to read to tide you over until the weekend, read on!

Fun with Dick and Jayne

Love mfm menage? Like a little BDSM-lite? Does an uptight cop and a free-spirited woman with a very generous dude already in her life interest you? How about humor? Because you know, sex can be damn funny…

Well then, I may just have the perfect story for you to indulge in on a lazy afternoon…

Seattle cop, Garrett Masters, knows what he’s doing can get him into trouble, but he can’t help himself. Every night as he arrives home, the blonde across the alley gets busy with her boyfriend with the blinds open. He’s spent the past two weeks getting an eyeful and falling deep into lust. But when Garrett sees a man in a black ski mask sneak into his sexy neighbor’s bedroom, he doesn’t know he’ll be the one captured.

Jayne has a nice life with a wonderful lover who sees to her every need, but she’s still drawn to the lonely man across the alley. She’s been sharing her darkest fantasies with him from afar but wants more. When she talks Richard into enacting a dangerous scenario, everything works out as planned. Only Garrett’s not happy about being played. And he’s got reservations, because she already has a lover, and he’s not into threesomes. Now Jayne has to convince him otherwise.

Get your copy here!

Here’s a little secret about Austin, Texas that one might not know about unless you’re a lady actually living in or around Austin… Austin does NOT have a strip club for women.  Yes.  You read that right.  There are zero, nada, zip, zilch strip clubs for women in Austin, Texas.  Sounds crazy, I completely feel you, but it’s true.

I found this information out the hard way.  It was late. I was at a big birthday party for a girlfriend, and we all decided that a trip down to the local strip club would be an excellent way to wrap up what had already been a pretty fabulous party.  After looking everywhere on-line for a club, we concluded we were SOL (shoot out of luck).  A true downer and quite a shocking surprise.  After all, Austin is a good-sized city loaded with women.  How could it be that the city would have several clubs for men to see women dancing, but none available for women?

From this experience, an idea was born.  Why not create a fictional strip club for women based in the heart of Austin – South Congress Avenue? Imagine the fabulous characters who can work in the club or visit the club, I told myself. Why, there would be enough characters and situations to write an entire series of stories!

And I was right. There ARE loads of interesting characters and situations that I’ve invented for a new series, the Iron Rods Strip Club Series.  In Unmasked Secrets, a standalone book (book 2 in the series), readers meet the masked stripper whose stage name is The Dom. He uses a riding crop in his act and gives out pink collars studded with rhinestones to those ladies who hire him for private lap dances.

What readers discover in this book is why our hero needs a mask, as well his journey into the world of BDSM.  Here’s a the blurb…

Hannah Armstrong, the new principal of Santana High School is a complete ball buster, so Mack Garner, her drama teacher, thinks. Her cutbacks to his department’s budget will force him to scrimp on his students—something he refuses to do. The stubborn woman won’t listen to reason so he’s taking matters into his own hands. He devises a plan to secretly replenish the money that is surefire, as long as he’s not found out. By stripping under the stage name The Dom and using an ironclad disguise at Iron Rods, Austin’s only strip club for women, he and his hard body will have his program flush again and soon.

But Hannah Armstrong has secrets of her own. The rigid, by-the-rules school administrator harbors dark desires to surrender to the titillation of BDSM. She needs a man—a real man—who can melt her inhibitions and master her. Exploring the lifestyle is a dangerous proposition for a small town principal though. Any whiff of scandal would destroy her career. She’s nearly given up on the dream until she meets a masked Dom at Iron Rods. The gorgeous male stripper so far away in Austin seems like the perfect solution. Is there a chance she can satisfy her furtive fantasies without being discovered?

**Warning – this book contains BDSM elements, graphic sex and touches of humor.

This series, the Iron Rods Strip Club Series, is truly one from my heart, as well as my imagination. Austin, Texas, one of my favorite cities in the world, is key to the series.  If you’ve ever been there, perhaps you can understand my love for the place I hope stays weird forever.

Click a link to order your copy Unmasked Secrets.
Amazon
Kobo
Smashwords
iTunes

Here’s an excerpt from Unmasked Secrets.  If this doesn’t get your engine revving, then seek emergency medical help because you might be dead. *grin*

Unmasked Secrets  by Brenna Zinn.  All rights reserved.

“Please tell me,” she articulated each word slowly, ignoring his comment. “What will it take to get you to agree to teach math classes this summer?”

“Now that is a very interesting question. Yes, indeed. I need to give this a little thought.” He raised his head and brushed at the light stubble under his chin. “Hmm… This may take a little while. When do I need to get back to you?”

Hannah flattened her palms on the top of her desk, pushing her face within inches of his. “Take as much time as you need.”

Garner tapped the pad of a finger on his ripe lips. “I think I know.”

“Yes?” She prepared herself for what he might possibly dish out. A raise? More money for his program?

Sex?

Her lower extremities spasmed at the inappropriate thought. The scandalous ache in her breasts returned. Aside from the silent scream from her nipples to be suckled and bitten, the muscles in her bottom flexed with the desire to be spanked. The handsome blond with enticing blue eyes must surely be phenomenal in bed. All rough handling and forceful thrusts…

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!

Her fantasies were rising too close to the surface. In her office during school hours was not the place or the time for imaginings of teeth bearing down on her skin or having her backside reddened. She absolutely had to stop reading those erotic books. Either that, or she had to find the kind of man who could properly relieve her sexual misery. The sooner, the better.

Garner snapped his fingers in front of her face. “You okay?”

Hannah blinked several times and shook her head. Goodness gracious and heaven above. She’d zoned out. Zoned out at work! Things were worse than she’d feared. “Absolutely,” she lied, fighting both her headache and the erotic charges surging through body. “You were saying something about what you want.”

“I want you to beg.” He offered a sadistic smile. “I want you to beg me to teach math this summer.”

“Beg?” A wash of cream flowed way down below, soaking her already moist panties. Her blood, heated and charged with arousal, sprinted through her veins. Was she dreaming?

Was he serious?

Had Garner somehow divined her dark secret?

Impossible.

She’d been so careful, saying absolutely nothing to anyone, not even her closest friend or sister, about her wicked desires. Which was exactly how things had to be. If anyone discovered the principal of Santana High School had anything to do with the world of bondage and submission, she could lose not only her job, but her career.

“Yes. I want you to beg.” His gaze bored into hers. “I want you to know how I felt when I came into this office and pleaded for you not to take money from the theater arts program.”

Though his demand raised the hackles on the back of her neck—how dare he, her subordinate, think to challenge her—an odd sense of relief mixed with sexual awareness swept through her body. His demand, arrogant and self-righteous, was far better than his having guessed her hidden desires. It also had her legs quivering with excitement.

Would she give in to his extreme bidding?

Did she have a choice?

Yes, of course she had choices, but none that worked as well. And, truth be told, did she really she want one?

A full beat passed, feeling more like minutes than seconds.

“Tick-tock, Ms. Armstrong,” he pressed.

She licked her lips as her mental debate continued.

Garner pointed to his watch. “You’re wasting my prep period.”

“All right, “she said on a sigh. “As you wish. Please, please, please teach math this summer.”

“No, no, no. You have to put some heart behind it,” Garner insisted, his fist pounding her desk. “I won’t agree to do anything unless I believe you’re sincere. I’m a trained actor, so it had better be good.”

“Seriously?”

“I want to be convinced you really mean it. Otherwise, no deal.”

The muscles in her back and shoulders tightened. Oh, I’ll give you convincing, all right. You want me to beg? I’ll give you the begging performance of the century. You’ll hand me an Oscar when I’m through, you insolent son of a bitch. She regarded the man so many people adored and reminded herself of her primary mission—dig the school out of its “Improvement Required” status—then closed her eyes.

Drawing in a breath, she cleared her mind of everything except the one man who had already mastered her in many private fantasies. The elusive being to whom she would willingly submit. Willingly beg.

The Dom of her dreams.

He, the powerful male both strong and gentle, waited in shadowy relief in her mind’s eye. Though darkness masked his face, she could make out the flogger in his hand. Its many strips of leather dangled from a wooden handle.

Her Master raised the tool.

“Touch the tresses. Feel how soft they are.”

His voice, low and steady, enveloped her as if being wrapped in a comforting blanket, shielding her from any doubts and fears.

“Yes, Sir.” She leaned forward, her arm outstretched.

“On your knees,” he instructed. “When I hold this flogger, you must always be on your knees to touch it. You will show my most favorite tool proper and unfailing respect. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Naked and unafraid, she fell to both knees before him, and then ran her fingers through the long pieces of lambskin. Unimaginably supple, the tresses were like velvet to the touch.

“Place your hands on the floor.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, she did so, splaying her fingers and bracing herself.

Her shadow Master moved behind her, trailing the ends of the leather strips down her bare back and onto her ass. Her nerves, heightened and tingling with expectancy, danced beneath every inch of her skin. Her body ached, truly ached, to feel the biting sting of the tresses.

“Now beg,” he ordered. “Beg me to do what I know you want. What I know you need.”

Hannah’s eyelids flew open, taking in Mack Garner. As though still in her dream, her mouth moved unbidden and gave voice to words originating from her very soul.

“Please. Oh, God, please,” she pleaded on an exhale, desperation tingeing her tone. “I want this so badly. I need this. Please, do this for me.”

The smirk on Garner’s face melted. His cheeks sagged. With the exception of the dazed look glazing his eyes, which were now the size of baseballs, his face transformed to a blank slate.

“Sincere enough for you, Mr. Garner?” she asked.

About the Author

Brenna hails from the Lone Star state where she lives with her husband and four dogs, three of which are as big as long horns.  She’s a fun-loving writer who likes nothing better than to explore while she travels (no planned excursions, please!), eat what others cook (it works out better for everyone that way), and avoid the gym whenever possible.

Her journey through life has taken her all over the United States, as well as many places throughout the world. Using her travel experience as a guide and peppering in interesting characters she’s met along the way, she loves nothing better than weaving tales of romance and leaving readers yearning for adventures of their own.

Click these links to follow Brenna!

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How erotic can a historical romance get? Especially with straight-laced Victorians, prudish Puritans or proper Regency society?

When an agent asked if I could turn my Regency-set romance into an erotic romance, it turns out it wasn’t that hard. The fact that the Regency was a period where proper manners and polite society were of paramount importance made the taboo even more naughty.

The granddaddy of kinky wickedness—the “S” in BDSM—lived from 1740 to 1814. The Marquis de Sade was a French aristocrat and sexual libertine. One of his affairs involved his wife’s sister. Others involved prostitutes and servants. According to Wikipedia, “[h]e coerced women into performing sodomy, mutual flagellation, and other unorthodox sexual acts, and poisoned several of them with aniseed and cantharides.” His mother-in-law secured an arrest warrant, and de Sade was eventually imprisoned in the Bastille in the 1780’s. During his imprisonment there, he wrote his magnum opus, The 120 Days of Sodom.

My historical romances are mostly set in early 19^th century England, and de Sade’s works were not widely published then. According to Wikipedia, the first uncensored English translation of his novel, Justine, or The Misfortunes of Virtue, was not published until the 1950’s. But de Sade wasn’t the only novelist writing kinky stories.*

John Cleland (1709-1789) was arrested for the 1748 publication of his novel Fanny Hill: or, the Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure. The story, featuring a young innocent woman and her sexual encounters as a prostitute, includes menage, orgies, voyeurism, flagellation and non-consent fantasies.

After reading de Sade and Cleland, I didn’t find the idea of a BDSM club set in a historical so far-fetched. (Actually, nothing I can think of can come close to the stuff de Sade wrote in The 120 Days of Sodom, which was required reading in my political philosophy class in college.) I had a lot of fun researching what was possible, and the prevailing norms of society back then only adds more tension to the erotic elements.

If you’re curious to read an erotic historical romance, you can get a free copy of my book, Punishing Miss Primrose, here. It starts off steamy but gets more wickedly wanton as it progresses.

About Punishing Miss Primrose

The Marquess of Carey intends to provide Miss Primrose a set-down she will never forget after what she did to his brother at the Inn of the Red Chrysanthemum, where members indulge in illicit pleasures. He entices the wicked harlot to spend a sennight at his estate. But when Miss Primrose enflames his passions, will she prove too hot for him to handle?

Get your free copy here!

*’Kinky’ may be far too tame a word to describe de Sade’s writings, which many find extremely disturbing.