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#NewRelease from Lisabet Sarai: FANGS, FUR AND THE SINGLE GIRL

Lisabet Sarai visits today with a look at her newest release, FANGS, FUR AND THE SINGLE GIRL. Lisabet says that fans of the Twilight series will enjoy this paranormal urban-fantasy erotic romance. In her essay, she tells us about her love of magic and the paranormal as a child and how she never really grew out of it. Welcome Lisabet!

A dark night, one woman and two men on the cover, one a wolf shifter and one a vampire, one

Paranormal Pleasures by Lisabet Sarai

I've always believed in magic. When I was a child, I had rituals to ensure that there'd be a snow day on the morrow, or that the teacher would forget to give us homework. Sometimes they worked – more often, it seemed, than would be true by chance. We lived in a semi-rural area and my father would spin tales of ghosts, demons and other creatures of power that lived in the woods around our house, chilling and delighting me and my siblings. Later, I'd catch glimpses of these supernatural denizens out of the corner of my eye and I'd know I wasn't alone. Somehow, I was never truly afraid. I accepted that there were more things in heaven and earth than television, arithmetic and doing my chores.

When it comes to the paranormal, I've never really grown up. I haven't personally encountered any spirits, but from time to time I've had vivid, prescient dreams and even waking premonitions that turned out to be true. I'm convinced that on rare occasions I have experienced telepathy. And sometimes, it seems that I have the ability to cast spells and shape reality, to materialize my fantasies.

That is, of course, what writers do –  make our fantasies real. Writing paranormal fiction lets me indulge my belief in the powers beyond the mundane surface of our world.

I’ve crafted quite a few paranormal tales, ranging from dark and edgy (Fourth World) to deeply romantic (The Eyes of Bast) to borderline silly (Rajasthani Moon). Paranormal romance is, of course, a hugely popular sub-genre, but it tends toward clichés. I often find myself pushing the boundaries, trying to do something a bit different.

My latest release, Fangs, Fur and the Single Girl, is not your typical PNR novel. It’s a weird blend of romance, eroticism, horror and humor. I do hope, however, that the book provides what I consider to be the essence of a paranormal story: a feeling of wonder. And since it is, fundamentally, a romance, it also includes a possibly odd but hopefully satisfying happy ending.


A tragically attractive vampire, a hunky wolf-man and a skeptical but susceptible career gal. What could possibly go wrong?

Bianca Sorenson understands obsession. Her phenomenally successful Vamp magazine feeds the popular fascination with the undead. The city is full of  fanatics who want to believe vampires are real. Bianca knows that’s a fantasy. Then a blond, blue-eyed blood drinker walks into her office looking for a model’s job and turns her universe upside down.

Jim Bush hasn’t been a vampire for long, but his terrible history and seductive hunger undermine Bianca’s single-minded ambition and her cherished self-control.

Trying to escape from Jim’s disturbing influence, she collides with a shaggy giant of a man whose mere presence inspires irresistible lust. When Zack Kane reveals that he’s a wolf shifter and claims Bianca as his mate, she finds herself on the horns of a supernatural dilemma. How can she resolve her feelings for her two mutually hostile lovers while defusing a city-wide conflict between the vampire clique and the werewolf pack?   


Fans of Twilight: get ready for a wilder ride than you ever imagined!


The shock of separation drove black spikes of pain into her temples. She opened her eyes, gasping for breath. Motes of red swam in her vision. She twisted around to look at him, in wonder and terror.

“Sorry.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know how else to convince you.”

“You’re—you’re the real thing, aren’t you?” Bianca thought her chest would burst.

“Nosferatu. Undead.”  She rubbed at her throbbing forehead. “But it can’t be! I never believed...”

“Believe,” he whispered, almost inaudible. Then all at once was back in his chair, leaving her heart slamming against her ribs. He smiled at her, that wide open, country-boy smile. Bianca worked to catch her breath, to calm herself to some semblance of normalcy.

It wasn’t possible. Vampires were a fiction, a legend. They were creatures of fantasy and nightmare. For some reason even she didn’t comprehend, the notion of vampires tapped into something fundamental in the human imagination. She personally knew dozens, maybe hundreds, of people who desperately wanted vampires to be real. These people, and others like them, fueled the engine of her success. However, even the most obsessed, the ones who caught and ate flies and slept in coffins in their cellars, knew the truth.

And now, here, that truth was being challenged.

He read her doubts, in her mind or on her face. He disappeared suddenly, then reappeared at her side with a glass of water. “Looks like you could use this.” Another blink and he was back where he started, smiling at her across the desk. The water was there, at her elbow, proof that she hadn’t been hallucinating. She took a sip and stopped fighting the evidence of her senses. It wasn’t possible that he was a vampire. But it was true.

“Are you very ancient?” she asked, finally. The question sounded absurd. What was she doing, continuing the interview?

Jim laughed, wholeheartedly this time.

“I’m twenty four. Or I was, that night six years ago at the frat party, when somebody’s girlfriend’s sister turned me. I admit that I was drunk. Barbara had just told me that she wanted a commitment, and I knew I wasn’t ready. I told her I loved her, but that wasn’t enough to satisfy her. So I went off, got plastered, and the next thing I knew I was in bed with this slutty-looking brunette who had very sharp teeth.” Bianca couldn’t help giggling. His tale was such a contrast to the mythology that she marketed.

“And then? What happened next? What about Barbara?”

Jim’s face grew shadowed. “Look, I don’t really want to talk about it. Not now, at least. Not here. Can we go somewhere quiet and dark for a drink?”

“You can drink? I mean, besides—well, you know.”

“Sure. I can’t eat solid food, though. It’s awful, because my senses are exceptionally acute. I can smell a juicy steak grilling half a block away. Pure torture.”  He sighed. “Anyway, what about the job? Do you still think that I’m unqualified, Ms. Sorenson?”

Bianca took note of the challenge in his voice. Her body still trembled at the proximity of an honest-to-goodness creature of the night, but her mind was working overtime. How could she best use him to further her goals? To expand her vampiric empire? His photos were far too raw for her audience. Could he project the same level of intensity in a less extreme scene? And what about his co-models? Could he elicit the same sort of rapturous response from them that she had seen in Barbara’s face? Without actually taking them, of course?

She imagined herself in the woman’s position, offering her throat to those vicious fangs. The notion was seductive. She had just been given a taste. To give in completely to that kind of power—to be overwhelmed, consumed by an unnatural hunger... She’d scoffed before, but now she understood the temptation.

Bianca had always felt like the boss, even as a lower-than-dirt intern at Harper’s while she was still a student. She’d always wanted the power, never considered letting go. Now the thought of offering herself to this creature made her damp with desire. A wave of dizziness swept over her, followed by a surge of fear. This guy was dangerous. He was a threat to Bianca’s essential self. She wasn’t all that concerned that he’d kill her. No, she was afraid he’d somehow erase her, turn her into some craven, submissive creature begging to be bled. Like all those silly girls who snapped up her magazine as soon as it hit the stands.

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An urban scene with a bridge and an excerpt from Fangs, Fur and the Single Girl

Author Bio:

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 (, 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:

1 Comment

Apr 11

Hello, Jana,

Thank you so much for having me as your guest and letting me share a bit about my new release!

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