Kay Jaybee's Blog, page 64
April 12, 2015
The Voyeur- 13 erotic fantasies, 2 women, and 1 man
The idea for The Voyeur saw its first glimmer of light back in 2007, when I wrote a two part story called Fantasy 13, for the excellent , now sadly extinct, erotica web site Oysters and Chocolate. These full-on BDSM parallel adventures, both set in the ‘Discreet’ S&M club, were subtitled Clara’s Story and Anna’s Story- and now form the backbone of Chapters One and Two of The Voyeur.
As anyone who has read my work will know, I love writing BDSM stories, and for some time prior to penning the mini- series Fantasy 13, I’d toyed with the idea of setting a piece within a specialist club, which I’d decided to paradoxically entitle, Discreet! The only thing holding me back was that I was at a loss for an original story angle.
About the same time, I was sat in a cafe (as ever!), covertly people watching. A woman about my age was frantically scribbling down a list. I assumed it was a shopping list; but then I began to wonder- what if it wasn’t? What if it was something more interesting? Maybe it was a list of all the things she wished her husband, lover or girlfriend would do to, or with, her?
There was no stopping my imagination once I’d had that thought. Within the hour I had created Mark, a business man who kept a secret notebook in which to compile all his darkest desires. He doesn’t necessarily want to take part in any of these fantasies- he just wants to see them take place in front of him. The ultimate voyeur!
So, you could say that The Voyeur was originally a mixture of ideas gleaned from my long standing desire to write a story set in a sex club, and observing a woman jot down a shopping list in a cafe!!
Of course, once Mark existed in my imagination, I needed to create some willing assistants to make his dreams come true- and so PA Anya (originally Anna), and Housekeeper Clara, were born! Two professional, intelligent women, who think they know exactly what they are letting themselves in for- but do they?
BLURB-
Wealthy business man and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper, Clara Hooper.
Upon the backs of his willing slaves, Mark has written out his fantasy list in thick red pen. Only Fantasy 12 awaits the tick of completion against their flesh before Mark’s ultimate fantasy -Fantasy 13- can take place.
But have the girls performed well enough to succeed in the final challenge? And what hold does the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club, Anya’s previous employer, have over Mark? A place Anya was only too delighted to escape from.
In order to find out, Mark’s girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they’d left behind them all over again; and while they do, Mark will watch…
***
If you fancy finding out how Anya and Clara came to work for Mark, how they cope with torture via erotica- and a huge number of other body wracking challenges – before the reasons for Mark’s sometimes cruel, sometimes caring, behaviour are finally discovered, you can buy The Voyeur from all good paperback and e-retailers, including-
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Happy reading,
Kay xxx





April 9, 2015
OUT IN PAPERBACK: Sexy Just Got Rich
How about that!!?? The Brit Babes latest anthology Sexy Just Got Rich has been doing so well, it is now available in paperback as well as in e-format!! FANTASTIC!!
Billionaires have it all but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to work hard to get what their hearts desire. In this brand new anthology of erotic BDSM stories the Brit Babes offer heroes and heroines who aren’t shy about taking what they want. From farmyards to luxury penthouses, wealth is all about sating needs, connecting souls and taking pleasure to new highs. Whether you’re looking for a coffee break read or something longer to curl up in bed with, you’ll find something to suit your needs in Sexy Just Got Rich.
Don’t miss this fabulous YouTube Trailer (thanks Tabitha Rayne!)
JUST CHECK OUT THESE STORIES…
Tabitha Rayne—Champagne and Tits
Jim is convinced he can make his rich partner’s nipples more sensitive and tries out his new ideas.
Lexie Bay—Sophie’s Secret
As one of the most eligible young women in London, Sophie Barnes-Lovett has worked hard and played hard to get to the top, but her glittering lifestyle brings problems too. She might be ruthless in the boardroom but all she wants is to find a man who can show her he’s in control in the bedroom.
When her beloved Head of Security is injured in a botched robbery attempt, she needs a temporary fix and when a friend recommends Annabelle Kinsella, Sophie agrees to meet her. At first she finds Annabelle bossy, overbearing and a little intimidating, as she takes control of every aspect of Sophie’s life, while Annabelle thinks Sophie is an over privileged airhead who doesn’t take her security seriously.
So when Annabelle discovers Sophie’s secret playroom on a routine security check, it comes as a surprise to both of them to find that they might have more in common than they first thought.
Kay Jaybee—The Chase
Mia has been offered the chance to escape homelessness and work for multi-millionaire, Cameron Chesterfield. All she has to do is to be the quarry in the chase. The prize for taking part in this annual event is a life of security. The price for taking part is enduring being caught by two of Cameron’s business colleagues- a man and woman who have paid handsomely for the privilege of pursuing Mia through the grounds of his estate.
Victoria Blisse —Wallflower
Hot, suave Leo Crabtree offers to be Penny’s Master, will this classic wallflower take up his offer and discover the dark side of her desires?
Kay Jaybee—Words of the Marquis
After a lifetime obsession with the Marquis de Sade, the new owner of two fragments of his manuscripts prepares to lose herself to her master’s words… “It is always by way of pain that one arrives at pleasure.”
Natalie Dae—Come Find Me
Kat Simmons takes a holiday to explore her feelings for her sex-on-legs co-worker, Dan. She’s had the hots for him for the past two years but isn’t sure if he feels the same way. She misses him and knows she needs to return home to tell him how she feels. That she hungers for him, has sexy dreams about him, and wants him in her bed.
When a room service man brings her a note, Kat follows the directions to a mountain cabin. Dan is here—and he wants her naked and in his arms. She finds a lover that unleashes the wanton woman inside her, and together they explore their shared desire for BDSM. A dungeon provides them with the ideal place to act out their fantasies—and Kat realises that sex can be hotter than she ever imagined with a little spanking added to the mix.
Tabitha Rayne—White Rabbit—The Switch
A billionaire dominatrix meets her match when the White Rabbit comes to play.
Lucy Felthouse—The Next Big Thing
Catriona’s life seems to be spiralling out of control. One minute she’s a successful investment banker with a flat by the Thames and a healthy bank balance, the next she’s a world-famous author. Well, sort of famous. She’s written a femdom novel under a pen name, so nobody actually knows it was her. Her publisher has gone marketing crazy, lauding her book “The Next Big Thing” and comparing it to Fifty Shades of Grey—much to Catriona’s bewilderment.
On launch day, curiosity gets the better of her and she goes into a busy London bookstore to queue up for her copy—despite the box of paperbacks she’s already stuffed into the bottom of her wardrobe. There she meets Elijah, a total hottie who’s also there to snag a copy of “The Next Big Thing.” When he admits he’s interested in female domination, Catriona’s intrigued. A chance meeting leads to a whole lot more between the pair, giving Catriona the opportunity to experience the things she’s previously only fantasised about.
Kay Jaybee—Great Expectations
Suddenly, thanks to one book billionaires everywhere are expected to be masters of BDSM! As if running a successful business wasn’t enough…
K D Grace—Buying the Farm
Cassie Fielding is at her wits end trying to save the family farm from bankruptcy after her father’s illness. But when Cassie returns from university, she finds that, in spite of their financial situation, her father has hired the mysterious, Simon Dennis to help run the place. As Cassie and the new hired hand experience an unprecedented heat wave of lust, Cassie comes to suspects that her father and Simon may be in cahoots with their own plan to save the farm, and the whole scheme depends on her.
Tabitha Rayne—You Said
A couple retreat to their beach house hoping to heal more than the space that’s grown between them.
Lily Harlem—In Safe Hands
Manhattan maid Marie loves to clean one apartment in particular because her time there always includes getting dirty with the sexy resident—Taylor Ward. Handsome, rich and successful Taylor has slipped his way into her heart with as much skill as he slipped into her panties. But she’s not complaining because they share the same kinks, the same dark desires, but can they share their lives? And what will happen when business has to take him away from her? (Spin-off story from the novel In Expert Hands)
Harlem Dae—Confetti and Collars
In the world of BDSM getting married doesn’t always require a white dress and a ring.
*****
Buy Links-
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Happy reading everyone,
Kay and the Brit Babes





April 7, 2015
Release Blitz from House of Erotica: Spy Games
Release Blitz from House of Erotica: Spy Games
From the sunny streets of South Florida, to the bars of Paris, to the backstreets of Rome where a secret club for old spies lies hidden, Spy Games is a collection of nine tantalizing tales in which spies and detectives seduce and deduce in all corners of the world.
Edited by Jillian Boyd and featuring stories from the likes of Zak Jane Keir, Slave Nano, Emily L. Byrne and F. Leonora Solomon, Spy Games is filled with danger, desire and the thrill of sex and spying. Unleash your inner Mata Hari and devour this collection… should you choose to accept this mission, of course.
Excerpt from Playing with Mr. Rhymes by Ella Casias
Half an hour later we were at his house. One of seven, apparently. At least, those were the ones the agency knew of. There were two guards on the main gate, another four at the entrance of the house. Rhymes led me through, only giving them a small nod. When we entered the house he offered to make us drinks. I checked again for the key pendant every agent had for a situations like this. In case something goes wrong, push the small button on the side and in ten minutes tops this place would be swarming with agents and cops.
Rhymes offered me a glass and took my hand, leading me upstairs to his room. The moment we stepped in he took the glass from my hand, resting in on the cabinet. And then he was on me. There was no time for finesse as he backed me to the wall and pressed his body against mine. His fingers snaked under the edge of my dress and I could feel the bulge in his pants pressing to my belly. His tongue danced in my mouth, making me moan and arch into him, looking for more. I felt a rush of sensations I hadn’t felt for a long time and it only made my resolve stronger. Just for tonight, Mr. Rhymes was going to be mine.
His lips moved down and began to caress the smooth curve of my neck. He pushed my panties to the side and probed at my entrance, finding me already wet and ready for him. He continued to push his finger in and out, rubbing my swollen clit with his thumb.
“Harder,” I breathed and he removed his hand and pushed himself away from me, walking backwards toward the bed while untying his light-blue tie. His eyes were like molten lava and I knew his arousal and need for me were as strong as mine for him.
“Strip.”
I gladly obeyed, wriggling as I slowly brought the dress over my head and tossed it on the floor. Rhymes was on the bed, his shirt unbuttoned and trousers gone, leaving him in briefs. I approached him, but he stopped me.
“All of it.”
I glanced down at the tiny bit of fabric that barely covered anything and eased out of them. I put my knee on the bed and removed his briefs, releasing his cock. My mouth went dry at the sight of him. I lowered my head and licked the tip as I brought my hand up and began to stroke.
“Don’t tease me.” He rasped, barely holding onto his control. I took half of his length inside and felt his muscles flexing. Damn, he was beautiful. A part of me felt sorry because I knew it was going to happen only once. After a couple of minutes of sucking and humming he told me to stop. He sat up, between my thighs. I heard him murmur “Beautiful” as he took in all of me, spread in front of him.
He placed his hands on my thighs and held them apart. He bent down and using his tongue he spread the folds of my pussy and worked his way inside, his tongue probing. I was close and urged him to go faster. It took just moments before I cried out in ecstasy, waves of orgasmic bliss washing over me. In a haze, I heard him tearing at a foil wrapper so I opened my eyes to find him putting a condom on.
“You were playing with me all night, daring me to make you mine. I’m going to get my reward for being a patient man.”
I opened my thighs wider and that was the only invitation he needed. In one hard thrust he was inside, making me arch my back and call his name. Rhymes pushed his hands under my ass, lifting me without slowing his pace.
“You’re a tease, Melanie. And you really shouldn’t tease a starving man.”
I urged him on with my legs wrapped around his back, clawing at him with my nails. Tomorrow, he was going to have some nasty scars as a reminder on our passion filled night. I screamed in ecstasy as my orgasm made my whole body shudder, clenching his cock and sending him over the edge. Rhymes collapsed on top of me.
Things went blurry then. Because the last thing I remember was snuggling up close to him. I must have fallen asleep because the next time I opened my eyes it was four a.m. Slowly, trying not to wake him up, I got out of the bed and put my dress back on. In the mirror, I could see my make-up was mostly gone, but it didn’t matter anymore. I checked again if he was asleep, and made my way downstairs. The third room I looked in was the one I needed. There were papers everywhere so I hurried; checking every drawer and taking pictures with my mini-camera of everything I could get my hands on. Half an hour later I was done and went to the toilet before I made my way toward the exit. The guards didn’t bother me. They probably expected me to sneak out of the house at some time. It was dark downstairs as I tiptoed to the front door.
Then, the light went on and I turned to the stairs to see Rhymes in his briefs, standing at the top of the stairs. I thought my heart was going to burst from the sudden surge of panic.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Rhymes murmured and I contemplated my answer.
“Home?”
“Come back to bed, baby. I’m not done with you yet.” I glanced to the exit, then back at Rhymes and thought why not? After all, there wasn’t going to be another time. That’s why I made my way back and Rhymes showed me – twice – why it a very good idea to go back upstairs indeed…
****
You can buy Spy Games from…
Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Spy-Games-Thrilling-Erotica-ebook/dp/B00V5659WW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1427644792&sr=8-1&keywords=Spy+Games%3A+Thrilling+Spy+Erotica
Amazon US – http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_2?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=Spy+Games%3A+Thrilling+Spy+Erotica
ARe – https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-spygames-1766800-362.html
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Happy reading everyone,
Kay x





April 3, 2015
FREE READ: Quick Kink One- The Shirt
I thought I’d give you an early Easter gift today- a free read! A complete story from my Quick Kink One collection!
Enjoy…
The Shirt
I have a favourite shirt. It’s black, plain, and simply cut. The supple matt fabric clings flatteringly against my chest and stomach, without managing to make me look like I’ve been vacuum-packed into it. Its thin granddad collar leads down to a satin ribbon-edged v-neck, which reveals a hint of generous cleavage. Yet it, that shirt of mine, doesn’t make me look slutty or tarty, just, well… tempting. Or so I’m told.
Perched on the edge of my bed, I stare at my favoured garment, hooked over the bedroom door, waiting to be placed with its colleagues amongst the clutter of my ultra-stuffed wardrobe. I can’t help but smile as I recall the hands that have run over that shirt. Men’s hands, women’s hand, delicate hands and calloused hands; digits that have dared to trail around the neck-line, perhaps lingering over, or accidently straying onto, the flesh beneath.
Rather than shove it in with it’s fellow shirts, I have a sudden urge to hug the material to me, to feel the caress of its soft sheen against my skin. With a reverence which I usually only reserve for large bars of chocolate, I lift the shirt from its hanger and lye back on my Queen sized bed, holding it to my face. It smells of cleanliness and the washing powder I habitually use, but mostly it holds the scent of promise, the promise of getting dirty all over again.
Closing my eyes, sinking my head back into the plump pillows, I think of the last set of hands to travel across the inches of fabric that make up the distance from the black shirts neckline to its hemline. A short length, but, when time is taken, it can become a frustratingly long journey. A frustrating, arousing and deliciously tense journey. There are times however, when those who encounter my shirt are in no mood to take their time.
I can see him clearly. He is standing only inches from me, and the air between us positively tingles with electricity. I could never love him, the man who currently adores me in my favourite shirt, but that’s alright, because he could never love me either. Lust however, is in no short supply.

This is the black shirt that inspired this story…
Shutting my eyes tighter, rubbing my shirt across my cheeks, my forehead and my eyelids, I begin to reminisce on the moment we first gave into the silent eroticism that seems to swim between us each time we chat over the counter of the little bookshop I own. I clutch the fabric tighter as I think of his fingers, thicker than any I’ve encountered before, and yet somehow, for all that, incredibly dexterous.
That first time he followed me through from the shop floor to the small stock room behind, his hands were on the waist of my shirt before I’d even shut the door properly. As I look back, my pulse-rate increases, and behind my eyelids I see how, in his urgency, he threw me against the poorly painted grey wall. His palms, rough from manual labour, pushed my breasts, squeezing them so tightly through the material of my top that I squealed.
Continuing to trail that same freshly ironed shirt down my body, I can virtually feel his left arm wrap around me, hoisting me up. With my weight supported by the door, and my legs hooked around his waist, I’d gasped into his neck, as my companions right hand shot up my shirt, yanking my bra beneath my tits. Manhandling them, with a combination of exquisitely arousing nips and pinches, he treated my breasts as if he was kneading a couple of cottage loaves. I remember how he murmured into my ear then, telling me how I filled his night time fantasies, how badly he’d wanted to be alone with me, and how, when he pictured me, it was always in my gorgeous, low cut, beautiful black shirt.
Sitting up on my bed, I swiftly remove the red top I’m actually wearing, and pop open the bra which has become tight and uncomfortable at the thought of my lovers hot agile fingers. Picking the adored shirt back up, I stroke it across my hardening nipples, making myself moan softly into my recollections.
He dropped me then, so that he could take off his faded blue t-shirt. I stood, my pulse racing in shock at the intensity of the last few minutes of activity, my breath snagging in my throat at the sight of a smooth firm torso, that hadn’t been overworked, and yet spoke of strength and, somehow, confidence in its owners abilities. An unexpected Celtic cross tattoo sat centre stage on his chest, just beneath the neckline of his t-shirt. It intrigued me. I hadn’t known anyone with a tattoo before. Reaching out questioningly, I began to trace its outline. He’d laughed at me kindly, unable to understand my surprise at how it felt the same as the rest of his skin, amazed that I’d never touched one before.
I hadn’t been able to confine my exploration to his tattoo however, and soon I was passing my palms across his back, arms and legs in long sweeping moves, determined to discover every inch of his frame. I imagined I was a sculptor, running her hands over a finished masterpiece, searching for imperfections. I found none.
All the time I had been examining his upper body, my companion had been returning the favour. With my shirt now rucked up around my neck, and my bra disposed of, he’d had easy access to my chest, with which he was undeniably fascinated.
I pinched my own nipples as I lay against my duvet, recalling how I’d eyed his crotch. A wave of desire had enveloped me at the sight of the bulge straining beneath his filthy jeans.
Picking up on my silent message, he’d grabbed at the belt that kept my denims in place, and deftly kneeling, had bought my trousers to my ankles. The fast pace of our coupling then returned, and before I had time to register what was happening, I was crying with relief as the stale air of the stockroom brushed my newly naked pussy, quickly to be followed by a probing finger, and then, wonderfully, a hot wet tongue.
Experiencing the same twitch of longing between my legs as I do when I’m with him, my snatch rippled as I lay against my bed. I removed the remainder of my clothes, and dragged the shirt down from my chest to between my open legs. Wet patches dotted onto the black material as I massaged it across my clit. My mouth went dry as I remembered how he had attacked my cunt on that initial glorious meeting. Not gently, not slowly teasing me until I begged for more, but with a full on, fast, rough, bucket load of lips, laps, sucks and nips, that bought me shuddering to the quickest and most intense climax of my life.
A quiver ran down my shoulders and began to flutter at the base of my stomach as I thought on. Of how I’d pulled him to his feet the second I’d finished shaking; of how I’d copied his gesture with belt, trousers and underwear, and knelt before him. His cock, thick and deliciously stiff had tasted of salty sweat, of busy days and hard work. The aroma alone had made me want to come all over again as I engulfed his length, hungrily moving him up and down my throat with an urgency that rivalled his own.
Suddenly, I realised I’d been echoing those past moans into the silence of my bedroom. One hand caressing the fast staining shirt between my legs, I returned the other to my right breast, tweaking the nipple far harder than I would when normally stealing a few moments of solo pleasure. I reclosed my eyes.
The tell tale swelling of his dick, and the taste of pre-come droplets gathering on my tongue, had informed me that he was about to come in my mouth, but then he’d pulled away. I’d been temporarily disorientated, until he told me, a look of pure lust creasing onto his rugged features, that he wanted to finish inside me.
Quickly positioning my unresisting body onto all fours on the dusty storeroom floor, he came up behind me, and only waiting to grab a condom from his back pocket, rammed his cock unceremoniously inside me. I had heard of people who claim to have been rutted like an animal, but until then I’d thought them to be either exaggerators, or wishful thinkers. Not any more.
Discarding my now sodden black shirt to the floor, I dug my nails into my clit, making myself yelp with painful ecstasy as I reminisced over his wild pumping, his totally abandoned need to consume my body with his. I spasmed under my own sharp touch, and scratched at my breasts, wanting to experience the strangely urgent pain he’d sent through me as he announced, in what can only be called a guttural growl, that he was about to come. The second he spoke, he’d sent a loud smack across my prone arse with the flat of his palm, making me scream in both shock and delightful agony as a second orgasm soared through me. With a final pump, he’d shot a spray of hot spunk into my body, accompanied by a very male groan of satisfied relief.
Taking a deep breath to steady my thudding heartbeat, I let my hands fall away from my shaking body. Retrieving my favourite shirt, I smoothed it carefully out over the crumpled bedcover. Damp and creased, it seemed to sum up the encounter I’d just happily relived.
The bookstore lorry driver and I have had many similar meetings since that first intense encounter, all of which take the phrase ‘quickie’ to a new level. We know very little about each other really, but I know that he loves my black shirt almost as much as I do, and that his fingerprints will always be invisibly yet indelibly marked across its fabric forever, no matter how many times I wash it.
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I hope that hit the spot! You can find The Shirt in Quick Kink One, and in my Xcite collection, The Best of Kay Jaybee!
Buy links-
Quick Kink 1
The Best of Kay Jaybee
Happy reading,
Kay xx





April 1, 2015
Guest Post from F. Leonora Solomon: Loving Nin
I’m delighted to have the ever bubbly F. Leonora Soloman visiting me today, to talk about her love of Anais Nin – something I totally understand.
Over to you hun…
I feel so honoured to be invited to guest post on Kay Jaybee’s blog today! I remember meeting her at Eroticon and her infectious good energy, and was not surprised to read this post on her blog, entitled Thank you Miss Nin. I am not surprised that so many of the writers that I love are grateful to Anaïs Nin.
Nin was a writer that I was familiar with peripherally, because when I was in bookstores before I had read her myself, I saw her name in the N section.
I started reading her fiction after a recommendation by one of my friends in college, who was an amazing artist, and light goth. She was telling me a story about a breakup she had, and how she was paralyzed by it: in a dark room with candles, chain smoking and not eating or bathing. She told me this on the advent of her new boyfriend, who I identified before she even knew she liked him. We were terribly romantic, what can I tell you?! But I started reading Anaïs, and read more of her than I read any of the romantic poetry I was assigned for my English class. I even used the Henry and June movie, as part of my final project in my screenwriting class. Henry and June remains a movie that I can have on in the background just to soothe me.

Anais Nin – courtesy theredlist.fr
There was a biography written about her years ago, the bio apparently berated Nin for not addressing the war that was going on at the time–WWII–instead writing journal entries about her relationships. I think to this day, that is one of the most infuriating things that I have ever read.
When we ponder why erotica authors are held to such a high standard, that authors of other genres are not held to that is one thing. But when you attack what someone journals about? What is more sacred than what is going on in our minds? Who has any right to judge that? Nin was journaling as a child, and some of what she journal-ed was fantastical. In ways she was in her own world, her perception almost crystal. It is her observations that makes her writing so literary. Her prose is poetic in ways that some poetry is not. Reading her depictions about how she actually fell in love with in her journals, and how her characters fell in love in her fiction leaves me breathless and swirling. To feel that alive! Her words are still so alive to this day! It allows us as artists, to feel free to create from our worlds whether actual or imagined.
My own blog quotes Nin:
I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn’t impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another.
I feel the same, and I would not want it any other way…
***
You can find out all about F. Leonora Soloman at her web site- is fdotleonora.wordpress.com
Her work can be found in a growing number of anthologies, including the forthcoming Chemical Sex, and Spy Games.
Many thanks for visiting today hun! I love the quote you’ve chosen – one of my favourite as well.
Happy reading,
Kay x





Guest Post from F. Leonora Soloman: Loving Nin
I’m delighted to have the ever bubbly F. Leonora Soloman visiting me today, to talk about her love of Anais Nin – something I totally understand.
Over to you hun…
I feel so honoured to be invited to guest post on Kay Jaybee’s blog today! I remember meeting her at Eroticon and her infectious good energy, and was not surprised to read this post on her blog, entitled Thank you Miss Nin. I am not surprised that so many of the writers that I love are grateful to Anaïs Nin.
Nin was a writer that I was familiar with peripherally, because when I was in bookstores before I had read her myself, I saw her name in the N section.
I started reading her fiction after a recommendation by one of my friends in college, who was an amazing artist, and light goth. She was telling me a story about a breakup she had, and how she was paralyzed by it: in a dark room with candles, chain smoking and not eating or bathing. She told me this on the advent of her new boyfriend, who I identified before she even knew she liked him. We were terribly romantic, what can I tell you?! But I started reading Anaïs, and read more of her than I read any of the romantic poetry I was assigned for my English class. I even used the Henry and June movie, as part of my final project in my screenwriting class. Henry and June remains a movie that I can have on in the background just to soothe me.

Anais Nin – courtesy theredlist.fr
There was a biography written about her years ago, the bio apparently berated Nin for not addressing the war that was going on at the time–WWII–instead writing journal entries about her relationships. I think to this day, that is one of the most infuriating things that I have ever read.
When we ponder why erotica authors are held to such a high standard, that authors of other genres are not held to that is one thing. But when you attack what someone journals about? What is more sacred than what is going on in our minds? Who has any right to judge that? Nin was journaling as a child, and some of what she journal-ed was fantastical. In ways she was in her own world, her perception almost crystal. It is her observations that makes her writing so literary. Her prose is poetic in ways that some poetry is not. Reading her depictions about how she actually fell in love with in her journals, and how her characters fell in love in her fiction leaves me breathless and swirling. To feel that alive! Her words are still so alive to this day! It allows us as artists, to feel free to create from our worlds whether actual or imagined.
My own blog quotes Nin:
I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn’t impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another.
I feel the same, and I would not want it any other way…
***
You can find out all about F. Leonora Soloman at her web site- is fdotleonora.wordpress.com
Her work can be found in a growing number of anthologies, including the forthcoming Chemical Sex, and Spy Games.
Many thanks for visiting today hun! I love the quote you’ve chosen – one of my favourite as well.
Happy reading,
Kay x





March 28, 2015
Taster Time: Equipment…
I thought I’d share a little teasing taster with you today from my mini anthology Equipment and Other Stories
To his lust driven delight, Lee Cooper’s opinion that his girlfriend simply doesn’t have the Equipment to take control in the bedroom is quickly and deliciously disproved. Meanwhile, Kim is sick of her gorgeous neighbour Jack bringing home a non-stop string of unsuitable women to screw, while completely failing to notice the girl right under his nose. Taking extreme measures, Kim sets out to prove she is more than just The Girl Next Door. Mark’s girlfriend is Searching For Her- the perfect woman to make her lover’s dreams come true. A quest which leads her into the path of more than one willing young lady… From BDSM action, to sex toy play, and the fun of threesomes, each of the couples in Equipment, gets far more than they bargained for…
The three stories within Equipment are all centred on the concept of making fantasies come true, either via the use of sex toys, bondage or instruction- but always through the use of the characters plentiful erotic imagination and romantic lust…
In Equipment, local mechanic, Lee, is given an unexpected lesson in the pleasures that can be found by concentrating on the butt alone.
In The Girl Next Door, Kim is heartily sick of her friend and neighbour not recognising how good he could have it if he noticed her, and not the endless string of plastic blondes he brings home on a regular basis. The direct action she takes is steaming- and not just because the water in the shower is hot- you’ll see!!
In Searching For Her, one of the most popular M/F fantasies is explored. A woman is sent upon a mission by her lover to find them the perfect woman for them to share. She must report back to her partner on the results of her research again and again, until the right woman is finally found. Once a willing female has been located, the fun really begins…
I have so much fun writing erotica- especially when I add in additional elements, such as sex toys or a third partner. These ‘extras’ add to the dynamic of any relationship, whether it be new or established. The hit of a paddle may give huge pleasure to the recipient, and the wielder of the weapon, but to me as a writer it is the thoughts that go through the characters minds that really turn me on.
Here is a tasty extract from the title story-
Equipment
The moment I saw his naked arse, I knew that I wanted to fuck it, and I told him so. It was the first time I’d seen Lee Cooper unsure of himself. For a split second a veil of uncertainty, possibly even fear, had crossed his generally ultra-confident square features. It didn’t last though, and he was soon shrugging my statement off with a lad-ish laugh, ‘you ain’t got the equipment baby,’ as he eased his solid cock into my willing body.
I started working part-time at the garage, where Lee is employed as a mechanic, three months ago. The first thing he said to me, as his clear brown eyes appraised my slight frame and red plaited hair was, ‘I’m looking forward to pulling on those pigtails honey.’ From anybody else I wouldn’t have taken a comment like that, but somehow from Lee it was okay. He exuded a sort of sexual confidence, and the instant and silent knowledge that eventually we would fuck radiated from his every pore. It would have been foolish of me to deny that unspoken understanding, and I privately looked forward to the day I’d discover if the tattoos that adorned his muscular arms, extended to his chest and down his legs.
That was three flirtatious months ago, and it had been fun letting the erotic tension build between us, getting more intense as the weeks of inaction ticked by, but finally, Lee’s resolve had broken. He told me, as he hammered an impatient fist on my front door during his lunch hour, that he’d been changing the oil in a beat-up old motorcar, when he’d realised he couldn’t hold on another moment.
After the glorious frisson of the wait, there was always the risk that the reality wouldn’t live up to the expectation. I hadn’t been disappointed however, far from it…
I smiled to myself as Lee dragged his grubby boiler suit back on, and disappeared down my garden path at a run. His words echoed in my head, “You ain’t got the equipment baby.” A wicked twinkle began to shine in my eyes at the prospect of what lay ahead for the unsuspecting mechanic, and speaking across the empty room, I said, ‘Well actually Mr Lee Cooper, I have all the equipment we could possibly need…’
The thought of his tight arse, of claiming it as my own, of taking control of Lee for a while, and perhaps robbing him of a portion of his macho-attitude, grew within me, and I began to lay plans for the temporary domination of this alpha-male.
On Lee’s next visit, predictably the following lunchtime, I embarked on a mission to both enjoy myself, and to lull him into a false sense of security, neither mentioning how delicious I found his backside, nor my eventual intentions for it. As his calloused hands made their way over my naked chest, pinching my nipples with exquisitely painful squeezes, I groaned with genuine pleasure. Stroking the beautifully toned body that pushed against mine, I relished the sight of the tanned multi-tattooed chest I’d so recently discovered.
It was on Lee’s fourth visit that I kept my hands exclusively on his backside. Patting it gently, smoothing it, and caressing it, in a totally non-threatening way, as my new lover pumped himself swiftly in and out of me.
On the fifth visit Lee announced he’d had a dream about tying me up. His face, when I told him that he could do just that, was a picture. I’m not sure if he was more turned on by the fact he could do anything he liked to me, while my hands were secured behind my naked back, or by the feeling of power my helplessness gave him. I suspect the latter. As Lee’s warm tongue explored my stomach, and ducked skilfully between my spread legs, I wallowed submissively in the blissful feelings that engulfed me.
During visit number six, a rare after work encounter, while Lee was both fucking and smacking my arse with stingingly wonderful efficiency, the last few parts of my plan fell into place, and I knew that my need to take his firm neat backside was reaching the point of obsession.
A little over two weeks after Lee had first turned up on my doorstep, I decided the time had come to act. Laying out my sex toys in a neat row near my pillow, I hid them from view with my duvet. Removing the clutter of clothes from the battered old armchair I keep in the corner of my bedroom, I adjusted its position so that it was at the foot of the bed. Then I took off my regular jeans and t-shirt, and put on my tight black Lycra bodice and matching knickers. The caress of the clinging material against my flesh was enough to increase my pulse-rate, and boot-up the arousal I had been so carefully keeping in check.
Lee’s distinctive knock on the door came at almost exactly seven o’clock as we’d arranged. I smiled quietly to myself at his promptness and, wrapping myself in a black silk robe, descended the stairs to collect my unwitting victim…
****
Equipment and Other Stories is available from All Romance (House of Erotica), Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all other good e-retailers.
Happy reading,
Kay xx





March 27, 2015
Guest Post from Kitti Bernetti: Search and Rescue
I’m delighted to welcome fellow Xcite author, Kitti Bernetti, to my site today to tell us a little about her brand new release, Search and Rescue.
Over to you Kitti…
I’m honoured to be here on your blog, thank you so much for inviting me. I write erotica with a heart. I hope to bring readers the sort of emotional romance that can bring you to tears but that is hot, hot, hot… And I’d like to share with you how I came up with one of my favourite heroes.
Now, don’t we all love a superhero? Those amazing guys who flash across our screens in lycra and capes saving towns, cities, even the world with their superhuman powers. But, bringing us back down to earth, I was struck one day when watching the news how we have superhero guys right in our midst, in our own cities, in our own towns. The news I was watching concerned a disaster which had struck a small American community. There on the screen were these great hunks of guys, the search and rescue crews, digging for hours, days even. Covered in mud, they were pulling people from under fallen rocks when all hope had disappeared. In the background were snow capped mountains and awesomely beautiful lakes. It was so gorgeous I decided I wanted to set a story there.
This got me to pondering on those men with their huge boots and massive chests and how it must be to be the strong one, to have everyone rely on you in a crisis. To have families desperate for you to find their loved ones. What’s more, I loved the phrase, ‘Search and Rescue,’ it encompassed strength and nurturing. I wondered what it would be like if one of those oh so capable guys had a hidden flaw, a weakness, a dreadful secret he couldn’t declare to the world. It fired my imagination to produce my own search and rescue hero, Gig Briggs, a man his community look on to save them and nurture them. Gig has his faithful friend, a former police dog Diesel and a beautiful girlfriend, Milandra. All should be perfect in his world. But I needed as an author, to give Gig a hard time. I needed to test him and put him through hell to have a good story. So, while he’s strong and invincible on the outside, it is his inner demons he cannot defeat. That’s where Dr Desree Cain comes in. She’s the renowned sex therapist he absolutely does not want to consult. And boy are they opposites. She’s a city woman, he’s a country boy. What’s more, she’s scared. Someone from her own dark past is hunting her down. That’s why she’s come to hide in this small mountain community. The last thing she needs is Gig Briggs getting under her skin and awakening her as a woman. That’s when things get hot, too hot to handle. For the last thing any therapist should do is fall for her client…
I absolutely loved writing this book, so much so that I might even take one of the other characters, Gig’s best friend Clint and give him his own book one day. But then that’s another story!
***
Search and Rescue, a steamy Cariad romance is available now from Accent Press, and all other good e-retailers.
http://www.accentpress.co.uk/Book/14589/Search-and-Rescue
Follow Kitti on Twitter @KittiBernetti
And on her website at http://www.kittibernetti.moonfruit.com/
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Many thank for coming by today Kitti.
Good luck with your new hot romance.
Happy reading everyone,
Kay xx





March 23, 2015
Take Control Tasty Taster: The Experiment…
The recent revamp of Yes Ma’am, my female domination/male submission anthology, reminded me that it has been a while since I shared anything from Take Control with you- my male domination/female submission anthology- and I do so like to be even handed…
Blurb
Take Control: Stories of Male Domination/Female Submission is a collection of toe curlingly sexy tales of bondage and female submission from the pen of best selling writer Kay Jaybee. From a spankingly delicious Dinner With Tess, to a Staged public sex fantasy, an unforgettable alfresco hosing in Deluged, a kinky scientific Experiment, and the realisation of a long held threesome fantasy in The Necklace, Take Control offers five bite sized stories that will satisfy any lover quality erotica.
***
I’m going to tease you with a little taster today from The Experiment…
They would follow his instructions to the letter. That was what she had claimed. Still, he was suspicious. It was probably all a con, a devious way of playing on his growing obsession. But it might not be – it might be genuine – he might get to see what he longed to see…
A petite, traditionally dressed, stunningly beautiful Malaysian girl led him into a dimly lit room. The scientist dropped his briefcase next to a comfortable wing-backed armchair, behind which was a small but well-stocked bar. Suspended from the ceiling, a state of the art camcorder pointed forwards, poised and ready to record all that was to follow. Tastefully tame classical music was being piped into the room via a number of wall speakers; speakers which he hoped would reveal some far more interesting sounds in the very near future.
About a metre in front of the chair, a large picture window had been fitted neatly between that room and the next, creating both a theatre and private audience auditorium. A thick red curtain was drawn across the other side of the glass, so that as yet the voyeur could witness nothing from the space beyond.
The hostess, hovering by the bar, gestured to the various bottles of spirits with a questioning glance. He selected a whiskey and, shrugging off his jacket, waited as a triple measure of amber liquid was sloshed into a cut-glass tumbler. With the drink, the girl passed him a white envelope, on which was written The Story Thus Far.
He sat down, fumbling open the letter with hasty fingers, and his eyes devoured the words: Shortly you will see Gail and Jade. Both have been fully appraised as to your requirements. They have been placed within the neighbouring room, secured as per your instructions.
Before your arrival, again as you requested, the girls were subjected to considerable concentrated arousal to the breasts alone, and had nipple clamps applied. Both females are now desperate for further attention. We hope you enjoy the performance. Sit back, relax, and enjoy. The Malaysian girl bowed and left.
Making himself as comfortable as possible, he sat in the chair, satisfied that – so far, at least – his wishes had been carried out.
This whole thing was an experiment: an exercise to discover how much attention needed to be applied to a woman’s breasts alone before climax overtook the subject. Any resulting arousal of his own, he had convinced himself, was coincidental, and of secondary importance to the enquiry…
****
If you’d like to buy this e-book, it is available from Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all good e-retailers. (It is also available for Kobo, Nook and on iTunes)
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Happy reading everyone,
Kay xxx





March 21, 2015
Guest Post Chloe Thurlow: An Idiot’s Guide to Self-Publishing
I’m delighted to welcome Chloe Thurlow back to my site today, to tell us all about her adventure in self publishing. This thirteen month long odyssey has led to the production of her beautiful new novel, Katie in Love. (Look out for the giveaway at the end of the post!!)
Over to you Chloe…
An Idiot’s Guide to Self-Publishing
Self-publishing a novel is like walking the high wire between two tall buildings without a net and traffic roaring up at you from below. The experience is an adrenaline rush, exhilarating and terrifying.
Katie in Love is that novel. It took 13 months to write, twice as long as my earlier works, and gave me almost permanent stomach cramps. Giving birth to a book is likened to having a baby and I felt as if I were carrying a small school of dolphins.
Sleepless nights and self-doubt is the staff of life to a writer; so is skipping meals and overdoing the Spanish cava, my drink of choice, less bubbly and lighter than champagne. Oh, yes, and falling over. I don’t have stretch marks but I do have some bruises.
Katie in Love went through four editors, all of whom had different suggestions; editors are such egotists. Picking the bones from their flesh-eating comments left me each time with a leaner manuscript and I came to understand the axiom: the first secret of writing is cutting. You spend 9 hours writing 400 words and then 2 hours whittling them down to 200. Then you open a bottle of cava.
When the big boy publishers take your manuscript it’s like kidnapping your baby. They choose the cover, they decide on the publishing date, the marketing campaign (if any) and when you want to speak to someone, they are always on holiday in the South of France.
The covers of my other books have pictures of girls like photos in an old album of people you can no longer remember. Self-publishing Katie in Love meant I could choose the image. I went to the Shutterstock library and almost went blind studying more thousands of head shots. Having created Katie, I knew exactly what she looked like. Finding her in the crowd was intense and incredibly satisfying. Look at the illustration. That is Katie.
My friend Polly Playford designed the cover. The blurb on the back cost another few bruises but, then, that’s what writing is, a battle to reach an impossible perfection. Marketing requires ceasing all other activities: no writing, no chatty phone calls, no lunches with mates. Marketing means being at the laptop 24/7 begging for reviews and asking nice people like Kay Jaybee to give you some space on her website.
What’s Katie in Love about?
Katie Boyd likes sex with strangers. No strings. She isn’t looking for love and doesn’t know if it’s what she wants when the feeling slowly starts to tingle and surface after that first night with Tom Bridge. Katie is a party girl drifting through the hip clubs and London party scene. Tom’s intense, caring, in the bedroom and in his concern for others. Katie’s world is turned upside down as she sets off on a journey of self discovery and change. In three weeks, Tom leaves for Sri Lanka, where he runs an orphanage, and Katie must decide whether to return to her old life or follow him into the unknown.
Present day relationships are as complex as the quickly changing world we live in. In Katie in Love, I set out to explore the intricacies of love, romance, desire and erotica set against the hopes and fears of contemporary life, a book for our times.
Now I hold the book in my hand and the digital version is ready to slip into devices everywhere, self-publishing Katie in Love turned out to be a worthwhile experience. I have crossed the high wire. I am safely on the other side. All that’s left to say now is: Please buy my book –
Link for Amazon downloads – http://bookgoodies.com/a/B00S1SMMIG
Link for Amazon books – http://bookgoodies.com/a/1503014908
The book that it currently in my hand, which is rather beautiful, is FREE!!! If you would like it- then please leave me a lovely comment below (including your email address) and I will pick my favourite, and send you Katie in Love.
Bio
Chloe Thurlow is the author of six novels including the best-selling The Secret Life of Girls (Xcite Books). She has a lively blog at www.chloethurlow.com and is, at present, on good terms with her Mother.
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Many thanks for coming by today Chloe!
Don’t forget to leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Chloe’s latest novel!
Happy reading,
Kay xxx





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