Fireborn Publishing Promises...

Fireborn Publishing promises to authors that we will...

1. …be true to the EPIC Code of Conduct for publishers.
2. …pay authors first…always. Owner pay comes out of the budget last. We will not spend money until authors are paid. Period. When the opportunity arises, we will reinvest money in growing the business.
3. …consider all suggestions brought to us seriously, at a monthly meeting between owner staff, whether the suggestions come from authors, editors, or readers.
4. …allow our staff to do what they do best, within their budgets, without micromanagement.
5. …departments support other departments as much as we can. Streamlining the job for everyone lightens the load.
6. …help our authors to promote/market their work to the best of our ability, teach new authors to promote/market themselves, and be available to answer all questions authors have.
7. …write and maintain an ebook for authors, giving answers to commonly-asked questions, and maintain active communication between authors and contacts in the individual departments.
8. ...Maintain PDF copies of royalty reports and book copies online, so authors can download their copies, in perpetuity.

Friday, April 22, 2016

And another NEW REVIEW!



Nasty Business by Lisabet Sarai (available in ebook and print)

"The sex is not only volcanic hot, but truly deviant in any number of ways. This is erotica with only a thin veneer of business, as these two try & outdo each other in the boardroom & the bedroom. They have one upmanship sex, revenge sex, negotiation sex & initiation of others into their sphere sex. Some is hot, some is weird & almost all would be grounds for sexual harassment suits. If you like your sex hard core, then this is your book."
4 Stars!

Ruby Maxwell Chen, lovely and ruthless CEO of a huge British business empire, is used to getting her way. When she encounters the strangely charismatic American entrepreneur Rick Martell, though, she wonders if she hasn't finally met her match. 

From the trendy clubs of London to the Hollywood Hills, Ruby and Rick compete for ownership of a strategic factory in Malaysia. Neither has any qualms about using sexual wiles to smooth the path to success. Neither anticipates that their mutual attraction will turn into something far more intense and difficult to control.

As their struggle for dominance escalates, they draw their employees and associates into their outrageous power games. The stakes could scarcely be higher, as Ruby and Rick play for the ultimate prize: a night of total physical surrender.

CONTENT ADVISORY: This title is a re-titled, re-release story.

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"Now don't get me wrong. Sometimes I'm not interested in reading anything other than sex, sex, sex. At other times, however, after a steady diet of bacon double cheeseburgers, I'd rather have a steak. [Nasty Business] by Lisabet Sarai is a steak; it's a substantive, tasteful meal of pornographic fun. The book is an erotic story in the true sense of the word; a bona fide plot with plausible, vibrant characters, and interwoven with lots of hot, graphic sex." - J.T. Benjamin, Divine Pleasures review

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"There's plenty of raw sex, rough sex, kinky sex, revenge sex, even elegant sex, in Nasty Business. And there's plenty of power play. But to have all that and the rare moment of mystic ecstasy too--well, that does it for me. Whatever does it for you, chances are that you'll find it here, and some unexpected pleasures as well." - Sacchi Green, Erotica Revealed

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Welcome to my office. My empire. On my leather throne, in my fitted silk suit, my raven hair captured in a slightly old-fashioned twist, I review petitions and grant or deny boons.

My supplicant sits on the edge of his chair a few yards from me, on the other side of the Danish modern desk. The desk is no more than an oval of teak on a pedestal; with the light from the window, he can see my shapely legs and my Italian heels, if he should look in that direction. He is focused on my face, though, trying to read the success of his pitch in my carefully impassive expression.

I have already made a decision about this deal, but it amuses me to allow him to continue. There is something pleading about his tone, but I also detect an undertone of seduction.

He is attractive in a boyish sort of way, this lion of British industry. He has sandy hair, precisely styled, a cleft chin, lovely thigh muscles that ripple under his impeccably tailored trousers as he shifts nervously. He works out; I imagine him glistening with sweat in his singlet and shorts. He is serious, disciplined, a bit driven. He carries his cell phone with him to the loo.

Now he is talking a bit too fast, expounding on the merits of his proposal. He licks his lips occasionally. They look soft and vulnerable. I long to bite them.

He knows who I am: Ruby Maxwell Chen, young CEO of the powerful Maxwell Companies. Perhaps he has even heard the nickname they give me in the bars where the execs and the wannabes gossip and network, or some of the stories behind the sobriquet, Ruthless Ruby. His mind knows these things, but he looks at me and he does not quite believe them.

I know what he sees: a pretty, diminutive Asian woman, calm and attentive, in becoming but conservative business attire. I know what he thinks: exquisite, gentle, pliant, submissive. Weak. Susceptible to his charm.

Yes, I am susceptible, but not in the way that he expects. I will invest in his new venture, not because of his blue eyes or his biceps, but because we will both make money. And my company will take a larger share than he has offered, and he will not be able to refuse, because he wants, he needs our participation.

Finally he finishes his spiel. His eyes search my face anxiously, seeking clues to my reaction. I smile slowly, realizing that I embody the stereotype of Asian inscrutability.

I am only half Chinese, of course. Mum was born and bred in Gloucestershire. She met my dad while she was in Malaysia on a botanical research trip, and fulfilled her reputation as rebellious and headstrong by marrying him. Though I was born in Kuala Lumpur, my life and education since then have been, at least on the surface, one hundred percent British. Tennis, dancing lessons, summer trips to Scarborough, degrees from Cambridge, and the London School of Economics. I am fluent in French, Italian, and German, but can just get along in Mandarin.

My father is--was--from an old family of Han merchants and traders. I have Malay blood, too. Dad's grandfather on his mother's side was a notorious pirate who terrorized ships in the straits of Malacca. I like to imagine that I am carrying on ancestral traditions as I maneuver and plunder my way through this cutthroat corporate world.

Dad built his financial empire here in the west: textiles, chemicals, energy, telecommunications, and now, high technology. Only in the last five years did he begin to expand out of Europe, to America and back into Asia. I was his apprentice, from the time I was in my teens. My business adversaries can testify that he taught me far more than finance and accounting.

My silence is making my unfortunate guest even more nervous.

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