Kay Jaybee's Blog, page 70
October 28, 2014
Guest Post by Lily Harlem: Have You Been Bitten Yet?
It’s almost Halloween, so why not sit down and indulge your reading muscles in some steaming paranormal erotica? And who better to provide you with some sexy shivers, shocks and shimmers than my good friend, and fellow Brit Babe, Lily Harlem? Over to you Lily…
Have You Been Bitten Yet?
Thanks so much for inviting me over today, Kay. I’ve brought with me some hot vampires and seriously sexy shifters! My two newest releases are Bite Mark and Claw Mark – do read Bite Mark first! – and I’m very excited about my first dally into paranormal erotic romance. I’ve mixed my supernatural heroes with one of my other favourite sub genres – ménage a trois – because I’m never one to say three is a crowd! Right since the start of my writing career throwing a plus one into the bedroom has been a bit of a habit of mine.
There is something about ménage a trois relationships that really sparks my imagination. I love the dynamics and the endless possibility for conflicts, sexy positions and happy ever after’s. Throw in fangs and claws and I had a great time writing these books, I hope you’ll check them out.
Bite Mark
Life in London as a butcher girl is hard enough, but when my best friend Denny went missing it became miserable. So stumbling into the Worshipful Company of the Ancient Order while searching for him was like a breath of fresh air. Especially because sexy, sophisticated Aimery promised to help me. But Aimery’s friend Ryle wanted in on the action. My head was spinning, my body reacting to theirs whenever they were around. But I had questions: What was their obsession with my rare blood type? How did they always appear when I needed them? And how old were they? Learning the truth about my lovers brought new fears and delights. They could take me higher than I’d ever gone before, show me pleasures I’d never imagined and were prepared to kill to protect me. Being mortal had never been so much erotic fun—or so deliciously dangerous.
Claw Mark
This book is a sequel to Bite Mark; to ensure full enjoyment of this book, please read Bite Mark first. Being married to two sexy vampires is as exciting as it is dangerous. One minute I’m on top of the world, the next I’m running for my life. But it’s okay with Aimery and Ryle at my side—they’ve sworn to love and protect me and keep me satisfied until I’m old and tray. But when everything crashes down, literally, I can see no way out of the darkness—death my best option. Until two unusual men come bounding to my aid. Gentle Caleb and prickly Isaac have secrets. They’re full of passion, desire, love and lust and their isolated lives are weaved with mystery. But I know what they are. I’m also craving some serious satisfying, a distraction from my dilemma, and it seems these guys are up for the job. Will my life always be turbulent, terrifying and tempting beyond belief? Nothing is certain in a world of vampires and shifters.
Buy Links Bite Mark
Ellora’s Cave http://www.ellorascave.com/bite-mark.html
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23454339-bite-mark?ac=1
Claw Mark
Ellora’s Cave http://www.ellorascave.com/claw-mark.html
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23414150-claw-mark?ac=1
Lily Bio
Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning, best-selling author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including Ellora’s Cave, HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite and Sweetmeats Press.
Her Hot Ice series regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.
Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Glass Knot and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release in 2012.
Her novel, Breathe You In, a super-sexy romance with a twist that will not only heat you up but stay with you for years to come, was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2013.
Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set available exclusively on Amazon – The Novice, The Player and The Vixen – and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel ‘every woman should read’. One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!
Lily Links
Website http://www.lilyharlem.com/
Blog http://www.lilyharlem.blogspot.com/
Twitter https://twitter.com/lily_harlem
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lily.harlem
Facebook author page https://www.facebook.com/LilyHarlemAuthor
Pinterest http://pinterest.com/lilyharlem/
Raw Talent http://rawtalentseries.co.uk
BritBabes http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk
Hockey Romance http://www.hockeyromance.com
Newsletter Subscription http://www.lilyharlem.com/newsletter-subscription.html
Hot Ice https://www.facebook.com/hoticeseries
Google+ https://plus.google.com/u/0/106837751333678531161/posts
Harlem Dae http://www.harlemdae.com
Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4070110.Lily_Harlem
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Many thanks Lily,
Happy reading everyone,
Kay xx
October 24, 2014
Getting Into a Sticky Situation
My novella A Sticky Situation is an erotic romance with a decidedly tasty edge…
If there is a paving stone to trip over, or a drink to knock over, then Sally Briers will trip over it or spill it. Yet somehow Sally is the successful face of marketing for a major pharmaceutical company; much to the disbelief of her new boss, Cameron James.
Forced to work together on a week-long conference in an Oxford hotel, Sally is dreading spending so much time with arrogant new boy Cameron; whose presence somehow makes her even clumsier than usual.
Cameron on the other hand, just hopes that he’ll be able to stay professional, and keep his irrational desire to lick up all the accidently split food and drink that is permanently to be found down Sally’s temptingly curvy body, all to himself.
It could be a very long week- unless Cameron can find a way of making Sally slop so much of her after show champagne, that he has no choice but to march her off and relieve her of her sodden clothing… He is sure that, if he could find a way to stop Sally resenting him taking her previous bosses job, then they could enjoy no end of sticky situations together…
After the arrival of new boy, Cameron James, to Zelcon Pharmaceuticals, Sally takes and instant dislike to him- a dislike that is tainted further with distrust when she learns that he is to be her new boss. Cameron however, has serious sexual fantasy issues about his new assistant- but he just can’t see how someone so clumsy can be as good at her job as everyone says she is…
Not only was this my first proper erotic romance (no whips or chains!!!), but Sticky Situation was my first foray into the word of food (and indeed drink) sex- and it was terrific fun to do!
Initially inspired by spilling my breakfast of marmalade on toast down my front in full view of an entire cafe full of people, I began to wonder how I could work my own regular foodie clumsiness into a sexy love story, and which foods I could play with!
I toyed with the idea of a variety of fruit juices running over naked bodies; ice cream deserts being smeared into interesting places, and even selectively dotted spots of marmite- however, on this occasion, these foodstuffs didn’t make the grade! Avoiding my usual BDSM moments in the interests of a softer romance, I nonetheless stayed faithful to my kinky story style with the help of champagne, ice, and even a vast helping of Chinese noodles…
…Resting Sally’s juddering frame against the bed, Cameron’s eyes fell on the carton of noodles. Taking up a single strand of the cold sticky string, he held it between finger and thumb, bringing the end against Sally’s hypersensitive nipples. It was high time he lived out one of the fantasies she had inspired…
Her eyes flew open as the tacky pasta began to circle her right tit, reminding Sally of the snake hidden away on his backside. Her breath caught in the back of her throat as she watched, mesmerised, as the elongated noodle began to hide her boob.
Picking up another noodle with quiet reverence, Cameron said, ‘I was going to tell you about my fantasy…’
****
Buy Links-
Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com/Sticky…/dp/B00L4N4JZE/ref=sr_1_13…
Amazon UK
Happy reading,
Kay xxxx
October 19, 2014
Guest Post from Toria Lyons: Does Your Mother Know?
As you’ll know if you follow this blog, I just love to have guests come and visit. Today I’m delighted in welcome one of the newest voices (pens) to the Xcite stable- Toria Lyons. I’d like you to be EXTRA nice to Toria, because today it’s her birthday!!
Oh- and you may notice, she has a bit of a thing about rugby…
Over to you Toria!!
Does Your Mother Know?
http://youtu.be/WkL7Fkigfn8
[ABBA – Does you mother know?]
Now that I’ve given you an annoying earworm for the rest of the day, I suppose I’d better introduce myself. This is my first time guest blogging, so please be gentle with me.
Hullo, my name is Toria, and I write erotic romances about rugby-playing alpha males who meet strong, normal women, with whom they fall in love and have hot and passionate (but realistic) sex, which my mother beta reads for me.
Yep, you read that right: my mother is my beta reader. I can’t quite believe it myself.
I shouldn’t really be surprised – it was her old Mills & Boons and Georgette Heyers that I started reading at the age of 13, after I’d gobbled through all the rest of the books in the house. To be fair, she tried to stop me, but I would read anything I could get my hands on. Plus in those days, Penny and Georgette didn’t have to imply that sex happened, it really didn’t. Women didn’t even have to reveal they were virgins, it was taken for granted that they were. Men were strong, women were…not as strong, and it didn’t take much to seduce them. I can’t remember a single ‘heroine’ doing something truly brave or fighting a ‘convenient’ marriage (although I could be doing the Heyer novels a disservice; it has been a long time). Unfortunately, this is still the case with many similar novels. But who wants a wet so-called heroine?
*halts tangent/rant right there and takes a deep breath*
Where was I?
Oh yes, my mother becoming my beta reader. My taste in romances diverged from my mother’s a while ago, when I would be picking up the racier choices at the library, and she would be heading for the historicals and gentler sort. So, she wasn’t an immediate choice for a test read of ‘the ultimate rugby bonkbuster’ or an ‘enjoyable and fruity rugby-themed romp’ (http://www.walesonline.co.uk/news/news-opinion/gareth-thomas-eddie-butler-quest-7918535). Plus the cringe factor had the potential to be overwhelming.
‘A lot of debut novels draw from the author’s life experiences,’ says Toria Lyons. ‘Mine’s about rugby and sex. I’m not saying any more as my mother may be reading this.’
Would you let your mother read what you write? How did it come to this?
Most erotica authors seem to agree when starting out, that most difficult thing to get is feedback. In fact, in conversations I’ve had with other writers, we’ve agreed that erotica just isn’t reviewed as often as other genres. How do you get an honest viewpoint on something you’ve poured a bit of your heart and soul into, but is a little ‘naughty’?
I’d already exchanged contracts with Accent/Xcite for my first novel, Playing For Keeps, which I’d written sans feedback. I needed feedback for the second novel, Playing Around, on some parts of the plot I wasn’t entirely sure about. I needed a beta reader, or just someone who would give me an opinion, any opinion. I’d tried all of the forums, even offered my reading services in exchange, and had no joy. I’d asked one of my sisters at an earlier date and just found out that I ‘was unkind to blondes’. That didn’t really help.
I knew my mother wanted to read it, to help, but I was still embarrassed about the sexy bits. As a possible solution, I said I would ‘grey out’ those areas, or remove them. I tried doing this, I really did, but there were just too many sexy bits, and the story didn’t make sense without the passion!
So, cringing greatly, I sent her the first few chapters. A few days later, she sent them back with feedback. Probably not as critical as I had hoped (she is my mother after all!), but it was great to finally have something to work with. However, I had thought we’d come to some semi-official agreement that she wouldn’t read the sexy bits, that she would skirt over them. Until I discovered a correction right in the middle of one particularly explicit paragraph. She’d read every single word.
If I could have died with embarrassment at that moment, I would have.
That next phone call was a touch awkward, as you can imagine. But, as time has passed, I’ve learnt to live with it and realised how lucky I am. My mother’s retired so has the time to do it, and she enjoys reading, so why not? And to be honest, she’s pretty good at it, at picking up things that others have missed. I forwarded the edited proof of Playing For Keeps to her and she pointed out my misuse of Scots/Scottish and other little quirks that I had no idea about. She’s great as a proofreader too. And a general cheerleader, and someone to bounce ideas off.
She’s still not reading my more explicit work though! I have to draw the line somewhere (and the line is between the front bottom, and back bottom).
So, my mother knows. Who else?
All my friends. Is this unusual? It appears so. In conversation with other erotica writers, some haven’t even told their significant others, some have multiple email accounts for their writing personalities, many are unsure how people will react.
My situation is slightly different to most: I have a disability which means I can’t work full-time and it greatly limits what I can do. Friends and family have accepted that I’ve found I can be productive at, and they’ve encouraged and supported me.
There are three main aspects of my life at the moment, which usually come up in conversation: writing, my disability, and cycling. I’ll willingly talk about all three, but the latter couple usually involve getting emotional, too serious and/or frustrated (‘red light jumpers’, whether on a bike, in a motor vehicle or on foot, piss me off too). That’s rather a mood killer when you’re having an enjoyable few pints in the local rugby club. Whereas writing is a safe haven in comparison. Plus I can get all kinds of ideas and inspiration from their responses.
In fact, most are upset that I haven’t written a book about them already. Some insist I already have (http://www.torialyons.co.uk/2014/09/30/its-really-not-about-you-honest/).
Of course, it’s still a bit annoying when I’m introduced as, ‘Toria, who writes porn’, but I can live with that for now. When I can’t, it’ll be a topic for another blog.
Which brings me along to you, my fellow writers and readers:
Does your mother know?
Tx
propecia no prescription
Toria Lyons
Twitter: @Toria_Lyons
Facebook: www.facebook.com/pages/Toria-Lyons/1468121170132819
Website: www.torialyons.co.uk
Playing For Keeps: Harford Scarlet Series:
***
Many thanks for coming to visit today Toria- and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Happy reading,
Kay xx
October 15, 2014
Wrangling Angels with Janine Ashbless
Today one of my very favourite erotica authors, Janine Ashbless, is here to talk about her latest novel Cover Him with Darkness. I just LOVE this blog- I can picture the historical frustrations so clearly! Over to you Janine…
Wrangling Angels
Getting angels to stand in neat lines is like herding cats. They just will not co-operate.
Imagine you’re writing a novel with the central theme of fallen angels, like I did with Cover Him with Darkness. And imagine you are, like me, a history snob who longs for compatibility with original “authentic” angel lore, in order to lend some plausibility to your fiction – instead of making up stuff like “Billy-Bob the Archangel of Table Manners.”
So you go to the Bible first, don’t you? I did. The keystone of my whole book is from Genesis Chap 6:
And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the
earth, and daughters were born unto them, that the Sons of God saw
the daughters of man, that they were fair. And they took them wives of
all which they chose.
Everything follows on from this throwaway line about horny angels.
What else does the Bible say about the hosts of heaven? Well, this is where you start running into problems which will eventually send make you bang your head repeatedly onto the keyboard and cry. It depends which version of the Bible you turn to. In the Protestant tradition which I grew up in, the only angels named in the Bible are Gabriel and Michael (and Satan). But the Catholic Church includes the books of the Apocrypha as canon too, which means they can bring in Raphael (from the Book of Tobit). That’s what you’ll find in all those Italian Renaissance paintings.
Those three are commonly counted as the archangels, the highest of all. But WAIT! The Eastern Orthodox Church (which is just as old as the Catholic one) recognizes seven (or sometimes eight) archangels. Judaic tradition suggests seven (or eight) too, but no – not the same seven (or eight). Islamic tradition suggests four, but not all directly from the Qur’an. Gabriel, Michael, Raphael and Uriel get a name-check in most of the longer lists, but after that all bets are off.
My head is starting to hurt.
In fact the Ethiopian Orthodox Christian Church – and bear in mind that Ethiopia is the oldest Christian country in the world, they converted before the Romans did – may be most relevant to my novel because it’s the only Christian tradition that regards as canon the Jewish Book of Enoch (largely because they were the only ones who knew it existed, for over a thousand years. Nowadays you can read it online). The Book of Enoch is a mad-ass visionary text that fills in the whole story around the Genesis quote at the top there. It’s full of the most beautiful stirring imagery and reads like it was written by someone who’d been snacking on the wrong sort of mushrooms. Woohoo! Bingo! So I should take my lists of angels from the Book of Enoch, right?
Wrong. The angel names and spheres of responsibility aren’t even consistent within the goddamn Enoch text. *Author throws a sulk.*
And then we get onto the medieval Angelologies as Kabbalists and occultists start weighing in, adding angels and attributing them stats like Top Trumps Cards. It’s starting to look like the rules sets for a load of competing and completely incompatible role-playing games.
At this point the divine Billy-Bob begins to seem appealing and I pour myself a very large gin and decide not to stress about getting it “right.” There is no “right.”
So next time you are watching a movie or TV series which describes Azrael as the Angel of Death and you go, “Oi! The angel of death is Uriel, you idiots! I saw it on Supernatural!” … you know why.
Janine Ashbless
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Cover Him With Darkness Blurb
If You Loved an Angel… How Far Would You Fall with Him?
What happens when the daughter of the village priest falls in love with an archangel banished from heaven? Milja’s heart is struck when she catches a glimpse of the preternaturally beautiful prisoner her father keeps captive beneath his church’s altar. Torn between tradition, loyalty and her growing obsession with the fallen angel, will Milja risk losing her family, and her eternal soul, for the love of this divine being? Janine Ashbless will transport you to a world where good and evil battle for true love.
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Bio :
Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure – and that’s “fantasy” in the sense of swords ‘n’ sandals, contemporary paranormal, fairytale, and stories based on mythology and folklore. She likes to write about magic and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.
Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000, and her novels and single-author collections now run into double figures. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology Geek Love.
Her work has been described as: “hardcore and literate” (Madeline Moore) and “vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love.” (Portia Da Costa)
www.janineashbless.blogspot.com
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Many thanks Janine- Cover Him with Darkness sounds amazing.
Happy reading,
Kay xx
October 14, 2014
Musing It
Yesterday a few of my Brit Babe friends where sharing these ‘muse’ secrets- today it’s my turn!
There are many things that influence me; overheard conversations, musical lyrics, friend’s fantasies; but at the very back of all that, my driving force if you like, is my muse- a muse who is most certainly female, and is driven by a basic curiosity- a curiosity that always wants to know what is going on behind closed doors.
Not that I’m an eye to the keyhole sort of person (like Maggie in my story Through the Crack; Quick Kink Two, it’s more that I can’t stop my imagination from filling in the blanks. Even when the blanks aren’t even really there to be filled!
If you’ve read my blog on the subject over on the Brit Babes site, you’ll know that I often refer to my muse as Miss Dubious Enterprises. Steering me along my erotic path, my muse takes me by the hand and points me in the direction of every possible source of inspiration.
She prods me as I sit on the bus, and gestures to the couple chatting on the seat opposite, urging me to observe their body language and reproduce their moves on paper at a later date. She reminds me to listen as I stand in shop queues, just in case someone says something I can use to kick start my imagination, once I’m happily settled with my notebook and pen.
Ever since I began my foray into the world of erotica ten years ago, I have seen and heard so many things- so many ordinary things- that my naughty little muse has twisted and turned, a flirty smile upon her face. Each word she utters has been moulded into stories and poems that are designed to – let’s be honest- make the reader feel rather more than hot and bothered!
I wrote A Delivery of Words for my anthology Quick Kink One, after my goddess had pointed out a rather attractive bloke unloading a pile of dictionaries from his lorry, outside the local bookshop. It wasn’t long before my imagination had moved both the man, along with one of the dictionaries, to my home, and started to play with them…
What could the top floor of a nearby hotel really contain? Is it full of nice normal bedrooms, in which tired out members of the business community can crash after a meeting? Or is it, as in my BDSM series, The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, a hotbed of private services and kinky sex?
When you see a sign on a lift saying ‘staff only’ where does that lift actually take you? When they announce over the loud speakers in the shop or club ‘Would a member of staff come to the storeroom,’ what happens when they get there? Are they sold to aliens for experimentation? Is there some erotically eccentric Sheik waiting to whisk them away to his harem?
That bring me to my highly kinky novella, Not Her Type- with this book my muse really took over- and joined forces with a few of the delivery men with whom I work in my ‘real’ life- and boy did they go to town on the inspiration…if you like your erotica hot, then I’m told this is the novella for you!
The only trouble with Miss Dubious Enterprises, my ever present muse, is that she never leaves me- never. No situation is too mundane to be used within my work. As I buy shoes, she whispers to me that the heels could be used as a dildo, (Bad Behaviour in The Collector). As I walk in the park, she remarks on how much fun it might be to wank on a park bench (A Leading Conversation in Quick Kink One). She points out a passing bus driver, and tells me that I could write off all his clothes… (Check out my short story Mr Greenline, coming out very soon…)
Rest assured though, my muse knows the rules, and has never strayed to the criminal, vile or horrific. Yet she never calms, never slows, and never stops- and every now and again- without wanting to be ungrateful my dear muse, I’d like to switch you off!
But not today…
Happy reading,
Kay xx
October 13, 2014
Musing with the Brit Babes
I have always find the idea of where a writer’s ideas come from fascinating. Where the thoughts that drive our stories are generated…I’ve always believed in the theory of the muse. That there can be someone or something or somewhere that acts as a trigger to our creative processes. I have certainly got a muse (more about mine tomorrow)- but what do some of my Brit Babes friends think- do they have a muse to play with…
Lily Harlem? Do you have one?
Mmm…muse, where are you? Over here, over there…Nope, I can’t find it.
It’s not that I haven’t got a muse, it’s just that he or she or it is so much a part of myself that I don’t think it’s a separate entity or a “thing”. When asked by my lovely friend Kay Jaybee to describe my muse and its (I do think “it” is the best word here) characteristics I had to really think about the details.
For me my muse is the reel of film in my head that plays out like a movie when I wake up at four in the morning. It’s Technicolour, it’s exciting, dramatic and leaves no detail of my WIP un-described. It taunts me with beautiful lines, snippets of dialogue and perfect adjectives that I really want to remember in the morning and I’m sure I will (but often don’t). It has me tossing and turning, wondering if I should get up and write but then my common sense tells me I’ll be too tired to do anything the next day if I do.
Another time I feel my muse is there is when the house is absolutely still and quiet and I’m sitting in my study at the top of the house. The window has beautiful views across fields and to the hills in the distance – Brecon Beacons – and as I stare out, taking a pause from a scene, I really feel that something is surrounding me, lifting me out of that pretty pink office and taking me to wherever the scene I’m writing is set. Whether it’s Bangkok or Orlando or the Canadian Rockies I’m there and something is with me helping me fade out of reality and into my imagination. Is that my muse? Taking me, transporting me, accompanying me? I guess it is.
My muse, therefore, doesn’t have a name or a personality or fluctuations in temperament, it’s pretty damn consistent and demanding and, of course, wonderfully helpful. The nighttime thing can be a bit of a pain but I’m used to it now and sometimes I even rouse and think “oh good, I can work through that scene now”. But I hope that inspiration, the kink in my imagination and my ability to “see” my stories stays with me, and if that’s my muse, then long may it last because I’m hugely grateful.
****
So Victoria Blisse, where does your muse lurk?
My muse loves public transport. I get lots of my best ideas sat on buses or trains. I can’t read or write there because I get travel sick so I just have to let my mind wander and when it goes for a wander my muse starts telling it stories –it’s great.
I’ve always been told I’m a daydreamer, little did I know when I was a kid that my imaginings were getting me ready to one day be an author. The muse was already whispering to me, even before I was old enough to write, I was getting the ideas, the inspirations.
Talking of dreaming, my muse is often active at night too. I will dream a dream and it will stick with me the next day and then it will expand into a story. Making it Real started as a dream of just one scene (my favourite one, with the snowy kiss) and expanded into a whole novel!
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And how about you Lucy Felthouse? I’m guessing it’ll be film stars that set your mind a racing…but which ones?
My muses tend to vary from piece to piece—and sometimes I don’t have a particular muse in mind at all. But for full-length novels, they’re pretty much a necessity—it’s much easier for me to write about characters if I can visualise them. And that’s exactly what I did with Pack of Lies, my just-released paranormal erotic romance novel. In my mind, Hugh Jackman plays one of the werewolf brothers, Matthew. Taylor Kitsch plays Isaac, the other brother. And Daniel Feurriegel plays Nathaniel, Isaac’s love interest. I didn’t “cast” Matthew’s love interest as she’s female, and for some reason I often don’t cast my female characters. The bizarre mind of a writer!
I created a Pinterest board for inspiration on setting, characters and more – check it out here: http://www.pinterest.com/cw1985/pack-of-lies/
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Finally, let’s hand over to Kd Grace…
A lot of my writing friends have sexy muses, muses that look like Aiden Turner of James Mcavoy. I’m not that lucky. My muse is, beyond the shadow of a doubt, female. I don’t know what she looks like because she’s always just out of my line of sight, constantly goading me on with a stick – not a sharp stick, a stick that doesn’t so much penetrate as bruises and hurt like hell if I don’t toe the line.
Mind you, she doesn’t always use the stick. The stick’s just to get my attention and get me going. She knows I’m neurotic enough that once I’m inspired with an idea, I’m a pit bull. But she doesn’t like me thinking too much about anything else once I’m off and writing. She wants me focused to the point of obsession, and an occasional poke with the stick is just a good reminder, especially if it’s followed by just the taste of inspiration. She knows how far I’ll go for a little inspiration, and she knows exactly what it takes to get me there. It’s sort of a Pavlovian response, I suppose, she pokes and I write.
I have no fantasies about her, as I might distractedly have if she looked like Aden Turner or James Mcavoy. I reckon she might look a bit like Medusa, in that if I ever saw her face, she’d have to kill me. But really, I don’t want to see. Not that I’m scared…Well of course I’m scared. But not scared that I might see her face. What I’m really scared of, what makes me break out in a cold sweat and have nightmares is what I would do if she ever left me. And when that happens, when I have that horrible gnawing in the pit of my stomach, that fear of sitting down to the laptop and having nothing come, it’s amazing just how good a bruising hard poke with her stick. It’s truly balm for the creative soul.
Yup! Nice would never be a word I’d use to describe my Muse. In fact I’m sure I’d get a good hard poke if I did. But my Muse knows me. My Muse knows me better than I know myself, and she knows how to access that in me that I fear, that in my that I don’t trust, that in me that I pretend does not exist. She knows how to open up the dark corners and make me see the treasure in the dust motes and the rust. I reckon that’s worth a poke or two with a stick.
****
Many thanks to my Brit Babes friends for sharing their muse thoughts with us today- come back tomorrow, for a little look at mine.
Happy reading,
Kay xx
October 12, 2014
The Retreat- A Sequel with a Fairytale Twist
The sequel to my bestselling novel, The Perfect Submissive, is called The Retreat, and is the middle novel in The Perfect Submissive Trilogy.
Continuing the story of Miss Jess Sanders journey through the world of the professional submissive, The Retreat takes her away from the life she has only just been getting used to…
Blurb-
Just as Jess is beginning to relax into her new life as a submissive at The Fables Hotel, her employer Mrs Peters announces that she is loaning both Jess, and her dominatrix Miss Sarah, to one of their most demanding clients; Mr David Proctor.
Whisked away by the mysterious Kane to The Retreat, hidden in a remote part of Scotland, Jess and Miss Sarah find themselves teaching another submissive to meet Proctor’s exacting rules.
As Jess comes to terms with the techniques of The Retreat Mistress, and the strictly overpowering dominatrix Lady Tia, she discovers that Proctor’s motives may not be all they seem.
Just who or what is Fairtasia? And why does Jess feel like she’s walked into a warped fairy tale?
In order to get back to The Fables, Jess is going to have to be more than just a perfect submissive…
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When I came to write The Retreat I was determined to keep the elements of The Perfect Submissive that had been the most popular, but also to make Jess’s second adventure very different from the first.
So, alongside the tough exercise routine that the dominatrix Miss Sarah inflicted on Jess in book one (I would have been severely told off by many readers if I’d left those out!), we meet a young lady called Alisha, who would love to be just like Jess; there are fairytales- but only sort of…and there is a mystery- in a way…and a little romance- but only just…
Many elements make up the whole novel based at David Proctor’s unusual business premises-The Retreat- but one key factor runs throughout- this is a story of submission and domination…and the story isn’t over yet! Part 3 of The Perfect Submissive Trilogy- Knowing Her Place, follows hot on its heels!
Here’s a tasty taster from the beginning of The Retreat to whet your appetite…
Prologue
‘Please Sir, please! I won’t let you down.’
David Proctor smiled down at the girl on her knees before him. The top of her head, haphazardly piled high with blonde curls, was all he could see on her pleading face.
‘I can learn. I can.’ The cooks voice caught in her throat, ‘I will learn to be whoever you want me to be.’
The warm softness of her Scottish accent added a dimension to his arousal that David hadn’t expected. He’d never a met a girl so keen to be subservient to him before. To be his personal submissive.
With his ego growing almost as much as his cock, as it pushed against the inside of his suit trousers, David crouched down beside the girl. Her bare buttocks bore the pleasing marks of his palm. The fading prints were pink now, but they’d blazed red only moments ago, as he’d held her across his lap, spanking her backside again and again in punishment for her repeated disobedience.
Her breasts, the perfect handful, were dotted with freckles, and as his mind considered all the things a willing slave could do for him, and he could do to her, he lifted her lowered head by the chin.
‘But you refuse to climax when I tell you to.’ David’s voice wasn’t angry, but it was hard. He was, and would always be the unyielding business man. If there was nothing in any arrangement for him, it wouldn’t happen.
‘I want to though Sir. I really want to, I just…I wait so long for permission, and then, I just can’t. I am so sorry, I…’
‘SShhhh.’ David stroked his hand through the wisps of her hair that had escaped her hooked up ponytail. She intrigued him.
The Retreat did need a new submissive, and quickly if his business plans were to expand in the direction he intended them to. The man Fairtasia was sending to represent them was due any day now, and not long after that their delegates would arrive.
‘Please Sir?’ Her blue eyes seemed impossibly wide as stayed still, her bare legs against the cold stone kitchen floor proving how good her stamina was, ‘Lady Tia could teach me.’
‘Training.’ David spoke the word slowly as if to himself, mulling each letter over in thought, but the young cook leapt upon the word.
‘Yes Sir! Dr Ewen says Lady Tia is the best dominatrix in her field.’
‘Umm. She is indeed, but…’ The Retreats new owner reached his uncallused hands to her tits, and felt a surge of satisfaction as the nipples pressed back persuasively against his skin, ‘I’m not sure Lady Tia’s field of expertise will be sufficient in this case. Spankings and beatings you can obviously already take.’
The girl lowered her face again. There was no doubt she was submissive material- and yet not quite. Her deference to him however, and his urgent need for a female submissive on his staff made David’s mind up for him.
‘I think it’s time I contacted a friend in England. I’m sure she’ll send us the help we need.’ Manipulating the cooks chest with greater pressure, enjoying pushing a gasp of pain tinged pleasure come from her lips, David’s round face gave a calculating smile.
His eyes had fallen upon the range in the centre of The Retreat’s kitchen, and then the table next to it. A huge old fashioned pottery jar of ginger powder, and another of brown sugar, sat awaiting the cooks’ attention. He’d been wondering how to impress the potential clients from Fairtasia. Whatever he did in order to win their contract, the performance the staff at The Retreat provided would have to be unforgettable. Now he knew just how that show was going to go.
‘Alisha.’
The cook jerked her head up hopefully.
‘You may train to be The Retreats submissive. Lady Tia can begin your lessons as you suggest.’ He unzipped the fly of his trousers, and freed his dick. He has to suppress a laugh as the girl eyes it hungrily. ‘You may call me David, I don’t like Sir, never have. Now suck me off.’
‘Yes David.’
‘Good girl.’ David pulled his mobile from his pocket as the cook’s velvet mouth engulfed him. There was a pause as he waited for the phone to connect, when the only sound in the granite built room was the working of Alisha’s lip and tongue.
‘Ah, the Fables Hotel? Good, Mrs Peters office please. Not there? Please tell her that Mr Proctor has a proposition for her; and that time is of the essence.’
Hanging up, David gripped his fingers deep into the cook’s increasingly tangled hair. Pushing his groin forward, admiring the way Alisha adjusted her position so that she didn’t gag, but took him deeper. ‘Tell me Alisha, what do you know about fairy tales…?’
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If you’d like to read The Retreat, you can find it in paperback or e-format at all good retailers, including-
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Happy reading,
Kay xx
October 6, 2014
Ten Years of Luck
As you’ll know if you follow my blog, last month I celebrated my tenth anniversary.
Sometimes I have to pinch myself. There are genuinely days when I can’t believe that I have this amazing life. Somehow I have gone from being an archaeologist, to medieval historian, to an erotica writer, and I’m still not sure how it happened! One minute I was writing about crime rates in thirteenth century Leicestershire, the next I was describing how a dominant woman was getting her rocks off over a man tied to an armchair!
If you read this blog, or my Tweets and Facebook posts, you will notice a certain over-use of words such as ‘wonderful’, ‘amazing’ , ‘fantastic’ and ’lovely’. This is not due to a lack in my vocabulary, but because life is good, and those words say it all.
Every piece of erotica I have written so far has been penned within an ever growing pile of notebooks with my faithful black biro, while sat in the far corner of my favourite coffee shop, in the heart of SW England.
I’ve tried to drag myself into the twenty first century, and write directly into my laptop, but the best I can do is to type up the initial draft (a process which often involves much tutting as I fail to decipher my spider like handwriting). This is the time I do most of my editing, as I transfer my words of imaginative (hopefully) smut (definitely).
To round off my anniversary celebrations, the wonderful (see, told you I used that word a lot) ETO magazine has published an article about all the changes I’ve seen in the world of writing erotica since I began back in 2004! An amazing amount of luck has helped me along my way- check out the article, and you’ll see what I mean!!
It’s been quite a week for me press wise- not only was I lucky enough to be in the ETO magazine, but my contemporary romantic fiction alter-ego Jenny Kane has been out and about in the Western Morning News, celebrating the launch of my novel, Another Cup of Coffee into the countries bookshops! Now that wasn’t something I wasn’t doing ten years ago!!!
I’ve been rambling on for long enough about this anniversary of mine, so I’ll leave you now. It really has all been rather incredible!!
Happy reading,
Kay xxx
October 3, 2014
Boy it’s HOT!- The Sexy Librarian’s Big Book of Erotica
I was honoured earlier this year, when Rose Caraway asked me to write a short story for Cleis Press’s latest anthology, The Sexy Librarian’s Big Book of Erotica.
As a former library assistant, I am here to tell you…some of the things they say about librarians are true…
Why is this library different than any other library? First of all, it has velvet chairs and fine-grained bookshelves. But what really makes this library stand out is its sexy and brilliant librarian, Rose Caraway, who is very caring about her patrons and will stop at nothing to service her readers.
In The Sexy Librarian’s Big Book of Erotica, Caraway has gathered a wide range of stories to satisfy anyone’s lust, literary or otherwise, from today’s top eroticists. From Rachel Kramer Bussel’s spanking-fueled flight in “Book Swap,” Tamsin Flowers’ sexy superhero tale in “POW! It’s Shibari Girl!,” and KD Grace’s sweet supermarket rendezvous in “Cherries in Season,” the Sexy Librarian has got a special story for you.
Librarians are on the front lines of our freedom to read, to think and to look at anything and everything the printed word, the digital word and the Internet have to offer. They fight the good fight every day, to ensure that you can access whatever you wish, without judgment or censorship of any kind. Is it any surprise that Batgirl was a librarian by day? Barbara Gordon, head of the Gotham City Public Library and superheroine fighting crime by night. Librarians in the real world these days are as likely to have pink hair and tattoos as they are to fit the stereotype of sensible shoes and a cardigan.
The best thing about being a librarian is that you don’t have to know everything, you just have to know where to find it. And for those who believe there’s no need for librarians in the age of Google, I give you this quote from Neil Gaiman: “Google can bring you back 100,000 answers. A librarian can bring you back the right one.”
No wonder librarians are featured in the sexual fantasies of so many people. After all, the brain is the most important sex organ in the body. You don’t have to be a sapiosexual to recognize that, yes, intelligence is the sexiest attribute. Librarians, in my experience, are often both smart and sexy; they read widely and across many genres, from horror to science fiction to literary fiction and nonfiction. If it’s well written and thoughtful, a librarian is likely to enjoy it.
The Sexy Librarian’s Big Book of Erotica is a superb dictionary of desires. You’ll be amazed at what Rose Caraway, The Sexy Librarian has in circulation, just for you.
You can find on The Sexy Librarian’s Big Book of Erotica on Amazon, and from all good retailers.
Do not miss Rose’s brilliant series of interviews with the authors involved in this brilliant anthology- including mine- which can be found here- http://rosecarawaythesexylibrarian.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/inside-erotica-authors-studio-with-kay.html?zx=5e20a67d400133d2
Happy reading everyone,
Kay
September 30, 2014
Two Years On- Peeping at The Voyeur
Unbelievably it is two years since my dark physiological erotic threesome romance, The Voyeur, was published by Xcite!
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…
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?
The original Fantasy 13 for Oysters and Chocolate told the stories of Clara and Anna as they experienced their employer’s two-pronged final erotic dream. In The Voyeur however, this original ultimate fantasy, becomes the twelfth item on Mark’s list. He has something far more challenging for his employees to endure for fantasy 13- and a dark motive behind his reason for it…
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Here’s an excerpt from the very beginning of The Voyeur to whet your appetite…
His evening meal complete, Mark sat back, contentedly sipping his cup of strong black coffee. Pulling a small, battered notebook from his pocket, he read thoughtfully for a moment. His self-restraint, although immense, was beginning to run out. It was time for them to progress to the end of the list. Pressing the intercom button, Mark summoned his personal assistant, Anya, and his housekeeper, Clara, to the dining room.
The women arrived swiftly, both aware of the importance of not keeping Mark waiting. Standing on the opposite side of the highly polished dining room table, his employees braced themselves for the coming instructions.
‘I have decided that we will take a trip to Discreet this evening. We will turn our attention to the next fantasy on my list. Fantasy 12.’ Mark’s cool blue eyes deliberately weighed up the reaction of his staff as he delivered his news.
Discreet was the reason that Mark spent such a large proportion of his time in his London flat, rather than in his mini-mansion in Oxfordshire, where his software business was based. It was only at Discreet, the most exclusive of the city’s BDSM clubs, that his increasingly imaginative fantasies could be publically appreciated; most of which involved the observation of other people’s erotic aspirations. Mark Parker was the ultimate voyeur.
Trying hard not to exchange glances with her colleague, Anya could sense the stiffening of Clara’s body as they listened to their boss. She knew that Clara’s mind, like her own, would already be racing; madly trying to guess what Mark’s latest erotic scenario would involve. Having survived fantasies one to eleven, they already understood the nature of the challenges they were likely to experience during the evening that loomed ominously ahead.
‘Anya, you will be less delighted than Clara, perhaps, when I tell you that this trip is intended as a lesson for you; possibly a punishment.’
Forgetting herself for a second, the PA lifted her head and stared Mark squarely in the face.
His lips smiled; his eyes, however, did not. ‘You wonder why? Why, when you are forever questioning my instructions?’
‘But Mark, I …’ Anya stopped talking, aware that by asking why she was simply proving his point. She could feel her nipples hardening beneath her white shirt, as her employer continued to stare at her.
‘Oh my dear Anya, you may never question me out loud.’ Mark’s voice was velvety soft, yet the potential danger of disagreeing with him shone in his eyes. ‘But I know that you constantly query my actions by your reaction to them. Subconscious or not, it has to stop.’
Anya couldn’t believe it; she had always been so dutiful. The perfect assistant. The willing slave. How could Mark know she privately questioned her existence; her choice at being here with him and Clara, living this less than “ordinary” existence?
Clara was hovering uncomfortably next to Anya as Mark came closer. ‘Tonight,’ he said, pulling off Anya’s shirt and bra, exposing her luscious chest to the cool of the room, ‘you will both face a combination of experiences that together make up Fantasy 12. Won’t it be lovely to be able to tick another task from our list, girls?’
They didn’t answer; experience had taught them that nine times out of ten his questions were rhetorical.
Mark twisted the women round; removing Clara’s top as he did so, so he could see both his employees’ bare backs. There, in neat script, a permanent pen had been used to write “Fantasy 1”, “Fantasy 2” and so on, all the way down – the numbers following the length of their spines, finishing with the words “Fantasy 13”. The first 11 rows of black lettering had bright red ticks next to them.
‘Only two more tasks to go.’
This time the girls risked a fleeting glance at each other, exchanging a look of mutual blood-hammering exhilaration twinned with an erotic anticipation it would have been hypocritical to deny.
Mark, during his brief periods of leisure, had painstakingly detailed many lust-driven scenarios he wished to both direct and bring to life. He often wrote notes, accompanied by intricate diagrams of erotic, slightly disturbing, but ultimately satisfying fantasies, in a leather-bound journal that only he was allowed to read.
Anya and Clara knew that the final fantasy, when it came, would be both more difficult and different to anything they’d ever previous experienced. They feared it. They also longed for it. Mark was a clever man, for as each new task unfolded he pushed his faithful staff along with him, darkening their desires and needs closer and closer to his own. Making them as keen as he was to see how far they could go. To see how much they could physically take as they accompanied Mark on his journey of extreme sexual sightseeing.
A cold, clammy sheen of perspiration broke out on Anya’s face, arms, and breasts as Mark danced a finger across her skin. ‘You will both go to your room and change into the clothes I’ve placed upon your beds. You will remain there until I call you.’ Mark pointed to the door, and his employees headed to their small, twin-bedded room without a sound.
As she considered some of the things she and Clara had been required to do over the last six months, Anya privately reassured herself that the trepidation shooting down her spine was understandable and acceptable. It was also irrational, for she knew that Fantasy 12 might not only be tolerable, but enjoyable; and that just because the end of the list was in sight, it didn’t mean the night ahead would involve anything worse than she’d survived before. She could handle this. They both could – no problem.
Then Anya saw her outfit.
Her bed supported nothing but a leather dog collar…
****
If you fancy finding out how Anya and Clara came to work for Mark, how they cope with his delicious brand of torture via erotica, and a huge number of other body wracking challenges before the reasons for his sometimes cruel, sometimes caring, behaviour are discovered, you can buy The Voyeur from Amazon UK, Amazon.com and all other good book and e-retailers.
Happy Reading everyone,
Kay xx
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