New Release!
Her Secret
Ingredient
By LisabetSarai
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A word from Lisabet:
The Accidental Rom-Com
The first edition of Her Secret Ingredient was published more than a decade ago. At the time, I was pretty much of a novice at writing romance, as well as clueless about the genre as a whole. The impetus for the title was a series my publisher was doing called “What’s her secret?”. I had an inspiration, created a quick, steamy contemporary story about an ambitious young woman whose plans spectacularly backfire, and marketed it as contemporary erotic romance.
I know a lot more now about all the genres and sub-genres, labels and tropes, under the big tent of romance. As I was editing the manuscript for this new edition, I found myself grinning frequently and sometimes, laughing out loud. This is better than I remembered, I thought. It’s really pretty funny. But I didn’t fully understand what was going on until I went to publish the book on Amazon and saw that one of the category options was romantic comedy.
Something clicked. Of course! I didn’t sit down to write a rom-com, but this book has many of the typical features of the genre: embarrassing mishaps, unexpected misdirections, a hint of the wacky, and a smart but in some ways clueless heroine who doesn’t realize she’s going after the wrong guy. It’s not as wild and woolly as one of Julia Kent’s tales (she’s the rom-com goddess, in my view), but it’s moving in that direction.
So if you pick up a copy of the book (and I do hope you will), don’t expect anything too serious. Except the love, of course. That’s about as serious as things can get.
Blurb:
Stir in a pinch to stir up his passion.
When the Tastes of France
food channel offers Mei Lee “Emily” Wong a series of guest spots, she jumps at
the opportunity to take her culinary career to a whole new level. Ultimately,
she wants a show of her own, but first she has to prove herself to Michelin-starred
network founder and effective dictator, Etienne Duvalier. A legend in the world
of classic French cuisine as well as a domineering perfectionist, Etienne is
skeptical about the culinary abilities of a woman from Hong Kong. To make
things more difficult, the master chef is also so gorgeous that Emily can’t
help being attracted to him.
Emily tries to solve both problems by spiking her luscious profiteroles with an ancient Oriental aphrodisiac. Unfortunately, Harry Sanborne, the low-key, bespectacled producer for Emily’s show, samples the delicacies she intends for Etienne’s consumption. His powerful reaction to her secret ingredient comes as a pleasant surprise to them both. Harry turns out to be far more impressive in bed than on the set. However, he can’t do nearly as much to advance her ambitions as Etienne. Emily tries once more to tempt the exacting Monsieur Duvalier with her special cooking as well as her feminine charms. The outrageous results threaten to end her TV career forever—until Harry steps in to save her reputation and claim her heart.
Excerpt (Adult):
“Hi, Emily! Got a minute?” Harry breezed into the studio kitchen, waving a clipboard. “Got a few things I need to go over with you, before tomorrow’s show. Do you want to be introduced as ‘Mei Lee’, or should we use your English name? And what about your certifications? Do you want the full list in the credits, or just your Michelin rating?” He stopped in his tracks when he saw the feast I’d assembled. “Holy smokes! That looks absolutely scrumptious!”
“Thanks. Let’s just hope that Etienne agrees.” I couldn’t quite keep the pride out of my voice. There weren’t many chefs who could put together a meal like this in four hours, without assistants and under pressure, in a kitchen not their own.
“Even our Monsieur le Chef can be swayed by great food. The desserts—oh, I’ve just got to try one of these…”
“No! Harry—”
Before I could stop him, though, he’d nipped a cream puff off the pile and popped it into his mouth. His eyes went wide as he chewed and swallowed.
“Unbelievable! Give me another.”
“Please, no!” I grabbed at his arm, but it was too late. He’d already devoured a second choux. “Those are supposed to be for Etienne.”
“Come on, you’ve made at least two dozen. He won’t miss one or two.” Harry made as if to reach for a third puff. I hung on, trying to restrain him, but he was far stronger than I was. Under that dorky clothing, I felt his muscles tense and shift.
He halted, his fingers inches away from their target, as if suddenly aware of my touch. Turning away from the tower of pastries, he gazed down at me. Behind his glasses, his mocha-colored eyes gleamed with powerful purpose.
“Harry?” My stomach did a somersault. My cheeks felt as though they’d just come out of the oven. Meanwhile he held me in that fierce, all-consuming stare.
I still had a grip on his left arm, near the shoulder. He reached out to rest his hand on my shoulder, as if we were about to dance. “You know, I actually see something a lot sweeter right here.” Sliding his palm down my back, he pulled me to his chest with a decisiveness that sent my pulse into overdrive. When he leaned in close, I smelled the almonds on his breath.
“Harry…I don’t think…”
“Shh!” He enforced this directive by fastening his mouth on mine in an energetic kiss.
He tasted, unsurprisingly, of sugar and cream. His firm lips molded to mine while his tongue teased at the seam, coaxing me to open. I shouldn’t have given in, but I honestly couldn’t help it. He might look like a bit of a nerd, but this guy really knew what he was doing. Wet but not sloppy, forceful but not brutal, alternating between deep penetration and playful flickering, he kissed with consummate sensuality. All I wanted was to swoon in his arms, to let him take me over. He seemed eager to oblige.
Cupping my ass in his palm, he yanked my pelvis against his. I gasped at the size and rigidity of the lump pressed against my pubis. My nipples snapped into aching knots and moisture flooded my already damp panties. He laced the fingers of his other hand through my hair, using them to control the position of my head as he drank his fill of me.
His mouth slipped away from mine to nuzzle below my ear, somehow finding the precise spot that’s directly connected to my clit. Meanwhile he groped my breasts, squeezing hard—harder than I usually like, but now I actually wanted more.
Apparently he did, too. He tugged at my blouse, trying to pull it out from the waistband of my skirt, and finally succeeding. The first graze of his fingertips along my naked skin sent a wave of arousal crashing through me.
“Wait—no—aah…oh…” My protests faltered as he deftly extricated one of my breasts and caught the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged on the taut node of flesh, twisted it, flicked it back and forth. I swear I felt him doing the same to my clit. At the same time, he caught my earlobe between his teeth, worrying it like a pup with a toy.
Oh God! He was all over me, fondling and caressing whatever flesh he could access through my dishevelled clothing—and it was glorious! Crumpling my skirt to the waist, he worked his clever fingers under the elastic of my panties to stroke my soaked fur. I jerked against his palm, wanting him to explore more deeply. He appeared happy to oblige, pushing into my channel with his fingers while strumming my clit with his thumb. I wormed my way into his loose trousers and clung to his cotton-covered ass, feeling his glutes flex as he ground his astonishing hardness against my belly.
I’d never doubt my grandmother again.
Praise for Her Secret Ingredient:
Her Secret Ingredient was a great short
story. I loved the unique plot, the realistically drawn characters and the
writing style. ~ Lucy Felthouse, Goodreads
I've always been a sucker for books set in
the kitchen, and even as outlandishly over the top as this one is, it was a lot
of fun…lighthearted and silly and sinfully sexy. ~ Steph, The Romance
Reviews
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 (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,
BookBub and Twitter. Join her VIP email
list here: https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh
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