Meet Cecily Harrowsmith by Lisabet Sarai
Hello, everyone! I'm delighted to be here at Dawn's place.
When I signed up for this coveted spot, Dawn told me I could do either an
interview or a post. I thought a while and decided to do an interview – but not
a personal interview. Instead I'd like to introduce you to Miss Cecily
Harrowsmith, the heroine of my new steampunk/shapeshifter/BDSM/ménage/Rubenesque
erotic romance novel Rajasthani Moon. Cecily is quite a handful –
both literally and figuratively. Voluptuously endowed,
half-British/half-Ceylonese, covert operative for the powerful British Empire,
Cecily speaks ten languages, is expert in the martial arts of three continents,
and has been the mistress of princes, potentates and the occasional prime
minister. In Rajasthani Moon this formidable woman meets her match in
the form of Rajah Amir, the kinky genius who rules Rajasthan, and his sexy
bandit half-brother Pratan.
But I should probably let Cecily speak for herself.
LS: What do you like best about being a spy?
CH: You are jesting, are you not? Espionage is not
the glamorous and exciting career most imagine. It involves weeks of boring
research, endless, uncomfortable travel to godforsaken spots at the corners of
the Empire, and constant personal danger. I can trust no one. I must depend
only upon my own resources. It's a lonely and difficult occupation.
LS: Come now,
Miss Harrowsmith. There must be some part of the job you enjoy.
CH: Well, it does give me the opportunity to escape
London and its miserable weather. (chuckles) Honestly, if I did not believe my
services were essential to Her Majesty, I'd resign in a trice.
LS: But if you hadn't accepted the mission to
Rajasthan, you wouldn't have met Pratan. Surely you don't regret that.
CH: Well, that depends on how hard he spanked me the
previous night. (chuckles again) No, you're right. I'm certainly not lonely
anymore. Pratan is more of a challenge, both physically and intellectually,
then any of my past adversaries.
LS: Adversary? A strange word to use for your lover.
You do love him, right?
CH: Of course I love him. I wouldn't have risked my
life to free him from the witch's curse otherwise. However, you cannot change a
man's nature. Pratan will always have a wild streak. (pauses to think) Perhaps
that is part of the reason I love him.
LS: And what about his brother Amir?
CH: As sexy a snake as I've ever encountered. Between
the two of them – well, let me just say that they're a dangerous and seductive
combination.
LS: Between the two of them... are you being literal?
CH: Ms. Sarai, this is a PG-rated blog post. I really
can't be more specific.
LS: Um – okay. Let me change the subject. When you
were captured and imprisoned in Mehrangarh Fort, secured by hi tech bondage
that would kill you the instant you set foot outside the fortress walls – did
you think you'd escape?
CH: Without a doubt. I knew I would uncover some
critical item of information that would provide the key to my release, and indeed,
that to be proved true. That is, after all, the most essential qualification
for a spy, the ability to uncover hidden information. And, with all due
modesty, I'm very good at that task.
LS: Given your success with this mission, I guess I'd
have to agree. I have one more question, perhaps a bit delicate. Based on your
experiences in Rajasthan, I'd say you are obviously a woman with a strong
libido. Do you view this as an asset or a liability in your professional life?
CH: To be blunt - I don't know, and I really don't
care. I am who I am – naturally sensual. Unusually sensitive, perhaps, to
erotic stimuli. I'm an adventurous woman, as much in sex as in other areas. One
might claim that Pratan and Amir were able to use this aspect of my character
against me. On the other hand, I feel comfortable saying that ultimately, I
triumphed – though I doubt either of the men would complain about the
outcome.
Rajasthani Moon by Lisabet Sarai
Neither kink nor curse can stop a woman with a mission.
Cecily Harrowsmith, secret agent extraordinaire, is a woman
on a mission. When the remote Indian kingdom of Rajasthan refused to remit its
taxes to the Empire, Her Majesty imposed an embargo. Deprived of the
energy-rich mineral viridium, essential for modern technology and development,
Rajasthan was expected to quickly give in and resume its payments. Yet after three years, the
rebellious principality still has not knuckled under. Cecily undertakes the
difficult journey to the rugged, arid land of the Rajputs to determine just how
it has managed to survive, and if possible to convince the country to return to
the Empire's embrace. Instead, she's taken captive by a brigand who turns out
to be the ruler's half-brother Pratan and delivered into the hands of the sexy
but sadistic Rajah Amir, who expertly mingles torture and delight in his
interrogation of the voluptuous interloper.
Cursed before birth by Amir's jealous mother, Pratan changes
to a ravening wolf whenever the moon is full. Cecily uncovers the counter-spell
that can reverse the effects of the former queen's hex and tries to trade that
information for her freedom. Drawn to the fierce wolf-man and sympathising with
his suffering, she volunteers to serve as the sacrifice required by the ritual
– offering her body to the beast. In return, the Rajah reveals Rajasthan's
amazing secret source of energy. In the face of almost impossible odds, Cecily
has accomplished the task entrusted to her by the Empire. But can she really
bear to leave the virile half-brothers and their colourful land behind and
return to constraints of her life in England?
Reader
Advisory: This book instantiates kidnap/captive fantasies. It includes robot
bondage devices, animated nipple clamps, electric play, clockwork dildos,
flogging, spanking, anal sex, double penetration in a dirigible, a small amount
of F/F intimacy, scenes of MFM and sex with a werewolf in shifted form.
Excerpt (Rated PG)
Tossing the switch onto the mattress, he turned his back to
her and strode over to the communications console. The apparatus glowed as he
flipped it into active mode. Cecily wondered where he’d got the viridium to
power the device. Unless of course the rebels had managed to smuggle the
precious mineral into the country from elsewhere… But where? All the neighbouring
kingdoms had been brought under Her Majesty’s sway.
“Amir—are you there?” Pratan lowered the volume of his voice
as he spoke into the mouthpiece, and switched to Hindi, but Cecily had
excellent hearing and a natural linguistic facility.
“Brother! How are you? I’d hoped to see you here at the
palace tomorrow for the new moon festival.”
“I’ll be there. With a guest.”
“A guest. And who would that be?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out. It’s a woman—a damned
seductive woman—whose carriage I ambushed this evening. She looks Indian—dark
skin, black hair, plenty of flesh on her bones—but I think she’s English. She’s
got these amazing blue eyes… Her given name is Cecily. That’s all I’ve managed
to get out of her.”
“With your skills of persuasion? I’m most surprised,
brother.” The Rajah’s amusement came through clearly. “And you’ve given up?”
“I figured I’d let you take a crack at her.”
Amir chuckled. “I could enjoy that, though Sarita might
object.” There was a pause. Pratan scratched his head. Cecily found herself
distracted by the way the muscles in his back shifted. “Bring her along then.
Should I send the aerocopter to pick you up?”
Cecily shuddered. Faced with the threat of a trip by air,
could she maintain her silence?
“No, no—I think I’ll commandeer her vehicle—quite a fine
self-propelled amphibious coach, a good deal more sophisticated than any of
ours. I imagine it should have more than enough fuel to make it to Jaipur,
since I suspect that’s where our mystery woman was heading.”
“Sounds as though it will be an excellent addition to our
fleet. I’ll alert the engineers. So I’ll expect you tomorrow, then. Travel
safe, brother.”
“As long as I keep my—ah—guest securely bound, I doubt that
I need to worry.”
“Accha! I look forward to meeting her. Ram ram.”
“Ram ram, Amir. Till tomorrow, then…”
“Wait a minute. ‘Cecily’, you said? Something’s tickling the
back of my brain… Let me examine the Universal Electropaedia…” In the ensuing
pause, Pratan glanced over his shoulder towards the bed. She assumed a
demeanour of indifference. “Ah, yes…Dark complexion, you say, and blue eyes?”
“Correct.”
“Between twenty-five and thirty years of age? About eleven
stone?”
“Ten stone four pounds!” Cecily interjected before she could
help herself.
“Yes, and tall too, for a woman. And from the way she’s
straining against the ropes, I’d say she understands every word we’re saying!”
Her spirits sank. Did the Electropaedia actually include an
entry for her? Why hadn’t the Empire’s censors excised it? This unforgivable
breach of security might well have sealed her fate, though she wasn’t about to
give up yet.
“Brother, I believe that you’ve succeeded in capturing one
of Queen Victoria’s most notorious agents—Miss Cecily Harrowsmith. According to
reports, she is brave, brilliant, beautiful, and as dangerous as a king cobra.”
Pratan rubbed his bruised shin where she’d kicked him and
grinned at her with genuine menace. “That sounds like her.”
****
Meanwhile, to thank you for reading, I'm giving away a copy
of my award-winning M/F/M science fiction menage Bodies of Light to
one lucky person who leaves a comment. Please include your email so I can get
in touch with you if you win!
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 – nearly 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
