Kay Jaybee's Blog, page 81
February 3, 2014
The Trilogy is Written- So What’s Next?
Did you hear that? That yell that sounded rather like an elephant trampling a hobbit under foot? That was me (I’m so tone deaf that I’m told my yells of yippee are rather painful to hear- so I apologise for the racket!)
And why the out of tune celebrations?
I’ve just handed in the edited version of Knowing Her Place, the third and final adventure in The Perfect Submissive Trilogy.
Leaving Miss Jess Sanders and the Fables crew behind feels very strange- and although I am far from idle (the copy edits will soon be though, the publicity will need addressing, and my Jenny Kane persona has a new novel due asap), for the first time in almost a decade, I am unsure where to take Kay next…
I’ve concocted inventive uses for ropes, paints, cuffs, tape, cake mix, hose pipes, sweets…. I’ve detailed every sort of ouch, ohhh, and ahhhhhh going. There has been romance, anger, love, lust, addiction, obsession and nonstop unstoppable physical desire…. and WOW it has been fun.
So dear loyal lovely readers of kink - those of you who visit this blog often, occasionally, or even if you are a virgin reader - and those of you who have been kind enough to buy my books- I am asking for your opinion.
What would you like next from the Kay Jaybee pen when it is next picked up? (Kind answers only please!)
Another novel?
More short stories?
Novellas?
A new series?
BDSM? Romance? Both? Neither?
I confess I am in a quandary- not from lack of ideas- but from what my readers would prefer. As any of you who write yourselves will know, there is no money in writing erotica, and the situation is getting worse rather than better, so if I’m going to keep doing what I love, then I’d like to at least produce what makes my readers happy! That has always been the biggest kick for me, and I’d like to keep doing just that once my Jenny Kane work is done.
So- if there are styles of books/stories you prefer from me/would like me to try, then this is your chance to tell me!
Thanks everyone
Hugs
Kay xxx
January 30, 2014
Chocoholic Needs Your Unctuous Chocolate Themed Stories!
Chocoholic needs your unctuous chocolate themed stories!
Do you love Chocolate?
Do you write Erotica?
Did you know you could combine the two into a decadent delight?
Last year lots of wonderful Erotic Writers did just that to bring you “Smut for Chocoholics” (http://smutters.co.uk/smut-for-chocoholics)
This year we want lots more of the same with “More Smut for Chocoholics” (you know one chunk is just never enough!) so we want your chocolate themed erotica, it can be from any genre even fantasy, sci-fi, historical or futuristic as long as it has an erotic twist and features chocolate somehow. We are looking for stories between 3,000 – 6,000 words. So have a few sticks of your choccy of choice and get inspired!
The rest of the information about the call for subs can be found at http://smutters.co.uk/calls-for-subs/more-smut-for-chocoholics
January 22, 2014
Guest Blog from C.J. Payne- A View To Thrill
I love having guests over to play- and today I’m delighted to invite a first timer to my site. So, it’s a big welcome to fellow Xcite author, C.J. Payne…
Where do I start? Well, firstly thanks to Kay for giving me this opportunity to write this blog! I’m a bit of a newbie to all this and live in a technology vacuum – in fact, this is the first blog I have written (cue applause) also, I’ve only just got onto Twitter! But I’ve got a new book coming out in soon entitled Sting (published by Xcite) so I thought I would put ‘pen to paper’ so to speak and tell you good folks about it. It’s a Fem Dom story and concerns Lynton Field, a feckless 30 something, who lives with the beautiful, but avaricious, Chloe. Lynton has been at the wrong end of the career ladder all his life and is facing disciplinary action in his current role. He decides to seek out an old boss and ask her for a reference. Well, I’ll let Lynton take up the story…
Chapter One
‘I’m afraid, Lynton, you deserve a good spanking.’
Julianne sat on the sofa opposite me with her legs folded underneath her. Her black pencil skirt stretched around her knees. She sipped her tea. I leant forward and looked down at the grey-blue carpet and rubbed a hand through my short, gelled hair. I gulped. I was aware that I had blushed … I was also aware that my cock, on hearing her words, had started to rise like dough in an oven. I tried a false laugh.
‘Don’t you think I’m a bit old for that now?’ I said.
Julianne’s dark eyes drilled into me. Her lashes were thick with mascara, her eyebrows were plucked and her eyeshadow neatly applied – only her lipstick had worn off. She shifted on the sofa and pulled at her ankles so her knees were further under her and the fabric of her skirt stretched even more tightly. She was attractive and glamorous and sexy – and she knew it. God, how many times had I wanked over her when she had been my manager and I had been a 20-something novice with a cheeky grin and a playful attitude towards work? Now my past sins were coming back to haunt me.
‘You’re never too old to learn a lesson, Lynton,’ Julianne said, her eyes burrowing into me again. ‘And I think you deserve a spanking.’
That word again! It sent shivers down my spine. Get fucking down, cock, I told myself. Get fucking down! It was like talking to an errant dog – the thing was butting in where it had no place to. I didn’t want to be spanked – not at 32, not by my ex-manager, in her house on a wet, autumnal Friday evening when I should have been out with my girlfriend, Chloe. OK, I often indulged in sex games with Chloe, and some of those included binding her wrists with ribbon and giving her a mild spanking. I was always in charge – I was the dominant partner – but this was different. This wasn’t a sex game. This was serious. This was vengeance.
Julianne continued, ‘You made my life a misery, Lynton, do you know that? You and DW and Suzy and Andrew and Debbie. A misery.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know that.’ I was genuinely shocked. ‘I suppose when you are young you don’t realise what impact your actions have on others.’
‘No, I don’t suppose you do. But supervising that section was my first step into management and I had ambitions. I wanted to get on – I wanted to be more than a mother and a wife. Perhaps I was too soft.’ She looked away and spoke to the glass-fronted cabinet in the corner. ‘I know I was too soft.’
There was no doubt about it – we had messed around. We were all a similar age and so had come to the office for a social life rather than to work. I know there was a lot of sickness and time off due to drink-related illnesses and when we were in … well, if Julianne had managed to get a day’s work out of any of us she had been lucky.
‘Peter didn’t want me to have a career so I had all that at home as well,’ Julianne continued. ‘It was the beginning of the end for my marriage. Oh, I’m not blaming you – Peter and I were weren’t right for each other – but it didn’t help.’
Fuck me, she was making me feel bad!
‘I suppose we were a bit young and stupid,’ I said.
Julianne fixed me with her dark eyes again. ‘You were the worst.’
‘I’ve changed now,’ I protested. ‘I’m not like that any more.’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘No.’
‘So why have you come to me for a reference and then told me you’re likely to have disciplinary action taken against you if you don’t find another job?’
I laughed. A hollow echo of a laugh. A picture of the Laughing Cavalier was on the wall opposite me and, as I met the old soldier’s beady eye, I had the distinction impression he was laughing at me and saying, ‘She’s got you there, son.’ I hadn’t really changed. OK, I didn’t drink as much nor mess around in the office to quite the same extent I had when I had been 20, but there was no getting away from it – I was pretty damned lazy and I liked chatting up the office talent. Not that I was a womaniser. Not really. Not like DW, who seemed to be a natural in that department and regularly ended up with single or not-so-single women between his sheets. Despite my increasing “maturity” I had still managed to end up on the wrong side of my present employers and knew if I didn’t find another position I would be sacked.
‘So why did you agree to see me?’ I asked, in response to her question. ‘After I sent you the email, I mean? It would have been easy enough for you to have emailed back to say a reference was out of the question.’
I was beginning to wish she’d given me the brush-off. All I had wanted was some help with my CV and a reference – I didn’t want to be put on a roller coaster guilt trip.
Julianne finally placed her cup down.
‘Curiosity,’ she said after a while. ‘I wanted to see if you were still the same immature 20-year old who caused me so much stress when I placed my foot on the first rung of the managerial ladder or whether you had grown up. Also, I have to say I could not quite believe you would have the cheek to ask me of all people for a reference.’
I blushed again. At least my cock had gone down. I’d made contact with Julianne through internet research and we had had an email exchange – though she had moved on from ZBC Communications, the company we had both worked for, she was still at the same address and it was easy enough to track her down. Julianne had agreed to provide a reference and had even volunteered to look at my CV and update it for me – but now it seemed as if it had all been a ploy. We’d met up in a pub and then she had invited me back to her place: I had thought I was finally going to get to her into bed because, Lord knows, she was hot, but I had come to realise that there was about as much chance of that happening as DW being elected Pope.
Uncrossing her legs, she placed her stockinged feet on the floor. I looked around the tidy, well-furnished living room. Julianne still had a wedding photo on a cabinet and photos of her two grown-up children, as well as nick-knacks from holidays abroad – a bottle of ouzo and pieces of china from various European excursions. I knew she liked the sun and had often returned from holidays abroad with an all-over tan – or so I had liked to speculate.
‘So, you’re not going to help me then?’ I said, defeated.
She smiled. ‘I didn’t say that, did I? I’m happy to help you update your CV and act as a reference for you – which will, let’s be honest, be economical with the truth – but you behaved really badly towards me when you were younger and I think you should acknowledge that.’
She suddenly stood up and brushed down her black pencil skirt. She was quite tall and, I would guess, a size 16 or 18. Her figure was curvaceous and she had large breasts. I could see the outline of her lacy bra through the thin, light brown jumper she wore.
‘Yes, but you don’t really mean you want to spank me though, do you?’ I said with a confidence I didn’t feel.
Julianne was standing over me. I looked up. I suddenly felt weak. I could hear a voice in my head saying “sorry, sorry, sorry”. My cock started to rise again. I placed my hands over my groin to cover it up.
She laughed, looked away. ‘I think it’s what you deserve. That’s all I’m saying, Lynton, that’s all I’m saying.’
****
From there on in he is immersed in the world of Fem Dom with Julianne teaching Chloe the ropes – so to speak – so that poor old Lynton does as he’s told where by the women in his life … and eventually he finds true love in the dominating arms of the woman he truly loves.
The book will be published soon in e-format by Xcite and will be available as a print on demand book sometime thereafter.
My first book, published by Xcite, was the unusual Kiss – unusual as the main character was an itinerant cross-dresser, Alex, who had been defended in a school lifting case by an ambitious, sassy and sexy solicitor – Kara Richardson. After the trial Kara starts to take Alex in hand, mixing transvestitism with domination…
In addition, I have written ten BDSM e-short stories for Chimera, nine of which are Male Dom and I’m working on a second set of “tales” for Chimera which will be imaginatively entitled, “The Caneterbury Tales 2” – Please note these stores are not to be confused with Geoffrey Chaucer’s originals…
I work full time in a ’sensitive’ area so can’t say too much about my background suffice to say I have written for a number of years – approaching 30 in fact! I have previously had stories in the now defunct Forum magazine, numerous articles in the equally extinct BDSM magazine, Privilege Plus and I have also written more conventional stuff. In my spare time my wife and I love the theatre – we live close to London and go about once every couple of months – we particularly like musicals. I also enjoy (watching) most sports, particularly horse racing. I am a keen gambler and one day I will make a fortune out of writing… a betting slip…
****
Many thanks for visiting today C.J Payne! I am honoured to be your very first blog host!
Happy reading everyone,
Kay xx
January 20, 2014
OUT NOW – TAKE CONTROL
I’m delighted to say that my latest anthology is out now!!
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.
With four stories from my long lost Oysters and Chocolate archive, and one brand spanking new tale, Take Control is my eighth solo short story collection.
If you’d like to buy this e-book, it is available from Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all good e-retailers. (It will be also be available for Kobo, Nook and on iTunes in a few weeks time)
Happy reading,
Kay xx
January 19, 2014
COMING SOON – Take Control: Stories of Male Domination/Female Submission
Over the past few years I’ve moved a fair way away from my writing roots as a complier of short sexy stories. I love writing novels, but every now and then I like to go back to where it all began, and blast out a burst of instant kink.
Published by 1001 NightsPress (the home of my incredibly kinky courier novella, Not Her Type), this fresh fantasy collection will be called Take Control: Stories of Male Domination/Female Submission
It is coming VERY SOON…so keep your eyes peeled for forthcoming buy links
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.
Happy reading!!
Kay xx
COMING SOON – Taking Control: Stories of Male Domination/Female Submission
Over the past few years I’ve moved a fair way away from my writing roots as a complier of short sexy stories. I love writing novels, but every now and then I like to go back to where it all began, and blast out a burst of instant kink.
Published by 1001 NightsPress (the home of my incredibly kinky courier novella, Not Her Type), this fresh fantasy collection will be called Take Control: Stories of Male Domination/Female Submission
It is coming VERY SOON…so keep your eyes peeled for a forthcoming cover reveal and buy links
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 Bess, 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.
Happy reading!!
Kay xx
January 18, 2014
Guest Blog by Justine Eloyt – Princess in Chains
One of my favourite authors is with me today- and I’m blushing over her kind words already!! I love a spot of historical erotica, especially when it has a touch of the “medievals” about it. And who better to write such a tale than the brilliant Justine Elyot!
Over to you Justine…
It’s such a pleasure to be with Kay, who combines writing utterly scorching and filthy books with being herself incredibly kind and lovely (this is a surprisingly common combo in the erotica world, mind you, but Kay is one of the very best).
She invited me to come here and talk about my new novel, Princess In Chains. It’s a bit of a departure from my usual thing – although I’m less and less clear what ‘my usual thing’ is these days. It’s fantasy adventure erotic romance, inspired by my love of all things medieval-ish, folksy, swashbuckling and set in days of old when knights were bold. It isn’t just the knights who are bold in this, though – the maidens get well stuck into matters too (and not just when it comes to the fighting).
Blurb-
‘Leonore, heiress to the Kingdom of Ystra, is promised in marriage to Corvin, unpopular monarch of the neighbouring Kingdom of Vala. When their first meeting ends in disaster, she is tempted to take her handmaiden, Asta, out of the castle to sample an evening of common delights in the city – but forces she hasn’t reckoned with are against her, and Leonore finds her destiny taken from her hands.
She must embark on a quest to undo the wrong she has accidentally done, accompanied only by a handsome cooper’s boy and the address of a mysterious alchemist whom, she hopes, will be the key to her success.
But nothing is as it seems, least of all Leonore’s own heart.’
Here’s an excerpt:
‘Tell me about your games,’ he murmured.
‘I suppose you might know…games of stroking and caressing and giving each other pleasure…with fingers, or with tongues…’
‘Dear gods,’ breathed Taran. ‘I wish I could see it done. I knew you were a lascivious little beast the moment I clapped eyes on you.’ He caught her lips with his again, nipping and licking at them.
‘You will never see it done until you help me find her,’ said Leonore. ‘But perhaps we will both find sleep easier to find if we help each other…’ She broke off, sure that Taran knew where her words tended.
‘That,’ he said, his chest rising and falling fast as he spoke, ‘is the best cure for insomnia I can think of. Forget your apothecary mixtures. I’m going to ―’
‘You aren’t going to do anything. I have never seen a man unclothed before. I want to see you. Get undressed.’
He broke into a broad grin. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, kissing her brow before standing up and unlacing his jerkin.
Leonore found it enjoyable to watch him remove his belts and leggings. He was a very fine figure of a man, slenderer than Corvin but well made. When he stood in just his broad-sleeved chemise, she wondered if she could stick to her resolve of prohibiting his intimate touch. She really shouldn’t…not with a cooper’s boy…but he looked quite edible.
He knelt on the bed and covered her, ravishing her with a kiss.
‘Your chemise,’ she objected.
‘It’s too cold,’ he said. ‘Let me keep it.’
‘But I want to see your chest.’
He sighed and knelt up, raising the shirt to neck level to display tight musculature and a nearly hairless chest.
‘There, my lady. Does it meet with your satisfaction?’
It did, but she was not sure whether she could say the same for the fascinating object that lay lower down at the level of his loins.
This, then, was a manhood.
Noticing her gaze, he laughed and put a hand beneath it. It was firm and hard and stood away from his body at an angle.
With mingled terror and exhilaration, Leonore realised that she should not see one of these until her wedding night with Corvin. Not that that was ever going to happen now.
‘You can touch it,’ he said softly. ‘If it pleases you.’
‘I cannot tell yet if it pleases me or not,’ she said, but she reached out and stroked the side of the shaft with one fingertip. It felt smooth and sleek, like some luxurious textile, yet when she prodded it, she felt the steel beneath.
****
Fun and games! If you would like to read on, it’s available in ebook format from all the usual retailers. Here’s the Amazon link: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Princess-Chains–Erotic-Fantasy-Xcite-ebook/dp/B00GFV1E8K/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1389692746&sr=8-1&keywords=justine+elyot+princess+in+chains
Thanks for reading!
Thank you so much Justine- fabulous extract!!
Kay xx
January 14, 2014
The Perfect Submissive Trilogy- Finishing Off
Ever since I was asked to turn The Perfect Submissive from a single novel into a trilogy, I’ve known how the story would end. I’ve been able to visualise the scene as Miss Jess Sanders finishes the journey (both literal and psychological) I have sent her on clearly for months- years even.
Yet, when I finally approached the end, with only two chapters of the third story (Knowing Her Place) left to pen, I found it incredibly hard to write the words down.
Jess, Mrs Peters, Miss Sarah, and even the repugnant Mr Proctor, have been part of my working life nearly every day for 2 years now. So when it came to creating the final part of their adventure, it was far harder than I ever expected it to be. Somehow the finale I had in mind, which had seemed so perfect for my special submissive, wasn’t perfect enough, and I ended up writing and rewriting those final scenes over and over again.
Then it hit me. There wasn’t anything wrong with those scenes- I just couldn’t let go. It isn’t easy to say goodbye to a story time that has consumed the mind for such a long time. I just hope I have done Jess justice! There might be no such thing as a perfect submissive in reality- after all, it is a contradiction in terms…but boy has Miss Jess Sanders tried hard to make the concept real.
Keep an eye on this blog- the very second the edits for Knowing Her Place are finished, and I have a release date I’ll let you know!!!
If you haven’t yet encountered Miss Jess Sanders, here are some details for you…
The Perfect Submissive
Hidden behind the Fables Hotel’s respectable facade, five specially adapted
rooms wait; ready to cater for the kinky requirements of its guests.
When Mrs Peters, the mistress of the hotel’s exclusive entertainment
facility, meets the new booking clerk, Jess Sanders, she instantly recognises
the young woman’s potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist
staff. All it will take is a little education.
Under the tutelage of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with her unexpected training schedule, the increasingly erotic chill she experiences each time she survives a
new level of correction, and a truly sexy exercise routine.
Temporarily distracted from her intimidating rule over Fable’s top floor by an enigmatic
artist, Mrs Peters begins to plan how she can secure his obedient assistance, in
grooming Jess into the perfect submissive…
The Retreat
It’s been six months since Jess Sanders allowed herself to accept that the role
of submissive on the exclusive adult entertainment floor of the Fables Hotel was
a job she was born to do. Now Jess’s boss, Mrs Peters, informs her, and the
resident dominatrix, Miss Sarah, that they have been loaned to one of her
clients, who wishes to start an adult retreat, hidden away in the remote glens
of Scotland. Suddenly, Jess has to come to terms that she might not be as
perfect a submissive as she had been led to think – especially when her new boss
implies that she may not be returning to Fables after all…
Knowing Her Place
With her head full of unanswered questions, exhausted from her fairytale experience at the hands of Dr Ewen, Lady Tia, and the staff of the adult entertainment service provided by The Retreat, Jess Sanders is desperate to leave Scotland, and return to her usual submissive position at the exclusive Fables Hotel in Oxford.
Having been thwarted in his plans to keep Jess at The Retreat permanently, its owner David Proctor isn’t willing to let Jess go back to her dominatrix, Miss Sarah, and her employer, Mrs Peters, without sending her on one final mission. Only if she succeeds in her task, will Proctor remove the collar of servitude he has locked around Jess’s neck.
With a list of five unknown addresses in her hand, Jess Sanders is placed in a car and driven from The Retreat towards England. With no idea what or who awaits her at the first stop, all Jess can hope for is that her journey will eventually take her back to where she belongs.
To the Fables Hotel, where Jess Sanders truly knows her place.
Pre-order links coming soon!
Happy Reading Everyone.
Kay xx
January 11, 2014
Guest Blog from Elise Hepner- New Year, New Attitude
I have a wonderful treat for you today, a very tasty extract from the lovely Elise Hepner.
Over to you Elise…
One of the hardest things to do working as a full time author is giving myself the allocated time for a break, a breather, or a day off. With social networking being such a large component of writing these days, it becomes hard to separate work and play. So one of my biggest promises to myself for 2014 was to get off my butt, get off the computer, and sit with a little bit of silence each day. I’m hoping if there’s more quiet, my brain will be less prone to burn out and go haywire. Coming off of 2013 and writing 500,000 words was an amazing high, but this year I need to take it easy. Which, isn’t much different from stressing myself out, let’s be honest. But small changes are best.
My second attempt to stay sane involves a lot of reading, fun reading, not work reading. At the end of the day, most of the time I’m too brain sore to pick up a book. Usually I resort to loads of TV and a heaping dose of Sims 3 for good measure. Hopefully, with my added breaks this will change.
What are some of the things you’re making room for in your life for 2014?
A Little Slap and Tickle
Blurb:
Eliza’s stuck in a lacklustre, dead-end slump after coming home with her graduate degree to a slippery job market and her brother’s fold out couch. Unable to circle newspaper ads for another second and desperately crawling into sexual fantasy to escape her dismal reality—Eliza takes her escapism a step further when she agrees to go to the Renaissance Faire with her best friend, Dru.
Her whole world shifts when Eliza meets Hunter, a quirky, mysterious leather worker who runs a booth at the faire. He’s been a platonic friend of Dru’s for ages and supplies her with homemade BDSM bedroom toys—toys that he’s more than willing to demonstrate with Eliza once the faire closes. But can Eliza give up control in order to trust that one of her biggest fantasies will live up to her expectations?
Hunter’s skills as a dominant force Eliza to trust herself again and Hunter finds himself with a feisty submissive that pushes more of his buttons than he ever thought possible. Together they push themselves farther than any fantasy, until their lives are never the same again.
Excerpt:
“I can’t say I’ve ever…participated…in an event like this one before, Dru.”
“Is that a bad thing? Don’t you think you should expand your boundaries outside of your brother’s fold-out couch and a newspaper full of wanted ads? Come on, have a little fun, Eliza.”
Eliza glanced sideways at her best friend’s elfin, petite face speckled with sunlight from the gorgeous afternoon in the woods. Dru’s light blond eyebrows were raised in question, rose lips pursed. The dare for Eliza to question her hung unsaid in the air. A wisp of wind picked up Dru’s red, cork-screw curls and pushed them across her face. But Eliza only cleared her throat—unfocused on Dru’s warm, whisky colored eyes, and refocused onto the crowd in front of them amidst the trees.
At least she wouldn’t feel out of place in her Indian maiden leather get up straight out of some weird S&M store that she’d borrowed from Dru. The skirt brushed mid-thigh with leather tassels that didn’t exactly cover—anything. While the corseted halter top ended at an abrupt triangle showing the whole world that it’d been awhile since she’d hit a gym. What topped the whole ensemble off were more tassels threaded beneath her breasts in a weird attempt at an Empire waist effect. The outfit was an experience unto itself, even without everything to see and do unraveling before her eyes.
For a second it was hard for Eliza to think of their little adventure into unwashed bodies, crowds, and medieval costumes as fun per se. But damn if the food wasn’t out of this world. And her best friend was right. Her status as Master’s degree holding, library science geek hadn’t earned her points on any of her less than minimum wage job interviews this week. Most people in their small town were snug as a bug in their day jobs and there wasn’t much room for more work with positions being pre-filled by family and friends.
She’d been away too long at college. Long enough to lose favor when it came down to a townie and a girl with too much school experience. No matter where she looked, she was overqualified. Facts were facts—libraries were closing like mad. Not to mention they only had one in the area filled with employees who held onto their positions with their last dying breath.
There was proving to be no room for Eliza here. But there weren’t any options in the outside world with no savings and no one to lean on if she continued on her job losing streak. Until she got lucky, she was beholden to her big brother and a nine-to-five job pursuit. Better to get out of the house for a little while. Besides, she’d worn out her traditional red pen circling the newspaper ads in the back of the paper and couldn’t afford to buy another one until Monday.
Two months of moping was enough to fry anyone’s brain and she needed to leave her problems behind. So this trip back in time better offer up merriment and wonder soon. Or at least some free booze. Just because she was out of college didn’t mean she couldn’t indulge in a pint or two.
“At least it’s free exercise,” Eliza chimed in with an easy smile.
Okay, so all the men in kilts and shiny chainmail were a bit distracting and she hadn’t seen this many boobs since Christmas at her sister Cheri’s divorce celebration. But the atmosphere wasn’t that bad. As they circled all the vendor booths with creative, painted signs and traveled beneath the charming forest of old oaks, Eliza could almost forget about, well, everything. Her complete lack of independent direction and purpose in life. As well as the fact that her dreams of an easy life were more than dashed. But this was nice—a swell of happiness.
A light breeze shifted through her A-line, brunette bob and she took a long, deep breath of carboliciousness. Her mouth watered and she continued following close behind Dru.
“Whoa, did you see that?”
“What? Oh, the woman holding the man on a leash in full bondage gear? They’re here every year. That’s old news, honey. People come to this place to let their freak flag fly high and for the most part no one gives a shit.”
She shifted her gaze away from the treacherous roots embedded into the earthen floor and watched Dru’s retreating—and fully corseted—back. Where was she going? What could be so important that they needed to rush through the crowds? Eliza was positive she’d brushed up against her hundredth stranger in only a half hour of being in the gates.
Several people must have gotten an up-close and personal brush of her bra-less breasts in her confining, leather get-up. Dru had lent Eliza her costume from last year and as they struggled through the crush of the food court crowds she wished there was a little more of it. Not only was her outfit tiny and skin tight, but the mid-summer air kept wafting up the skirt until Eliza was positive she was flashing the whole park.
“Um, could you—”
Before Eliza could finish the sentence, she glanced up and Dru had alighted two wooden steps into an open air shop front. She was talking to a man in a long leather duster with delicious abs similar to the covers of the romance novels Eliza was so fond of reading in her spare—alone—time. He wore a wide brimmed leather black cowboy hat that obscured his face and matching black leather pants.
Was Dru seriously waving her over there to talk to him?
No, there had to be some mistake. There was no way she was prepared for any kind of social interaction, let alone a handsome stranger. Christ, they hadn’t even hit the bar yet. Not one drop of liquid courage had passed her chapped lips and her stomach plummeted down to her feet faster than when she’d been stood up by her date right before prom pictures. But Dru frantically waved her over and laughed with her head back so her red curls cascaded down her back in a manner Eliza imagined was seductive.
Well, no turning back now. Where exactly would she go? It wasn’t as though she knew the lay of the land. Besides, the minute the man shed his long leather duster to point to a tattoo on his bicep, smiling down at Dru, there was no longer a choice. She had to see him closer. Her mouth watered at the expanse of all that beautiful, almost naked, man flesh.
There was more to him than an intimidating, tight physique. His every movement exuded thinly veiled grace while his smile lit up his sharply masculine face. A contrast of good cheer mixed with a concentration on whatever subject interested him. Until he became riveted, obsessed, with a possessive awareness of his subject. As she got closer, she sensed his gaze snap to her face, expression unchanged. But in that split second Eliza sensed his acute judgment.
He measured her with his shadowed stare while his small quirk of a smile never wavered.
The friends continued to talk but their voices were drowned out by the heavy pulse at Eliza’s temples. All of her flesh seized with goose bumps. This stranger stood as if all the world was his to explore, with a brightness in his eyes that dared nature to defy his dominant curiosity over what he claimed was his by right. He looked as if the whole world would bow down to him. And he wouldn’t be surprised. But nothing about him screamed arrogance—only a self-certainty and a quiet sense of inner peace.
Weird that she should read someone so quickly, but he was an open book. Both hands on his hips, lean muscles stretched in his arms and back until her knees were weak. Dru spoke and he laughed, head tipped forward while one strong hand rubbed the center of his chest. The dark shadow from his hat brim obscured everything but the clean, model-esque lines of his face so she couldn’t see his joy.
But his bark of gravelly laughter hit her as a punch in the gut while her chest tightened. There were enough trees in this place that she should have never lost oxygen. There wasn’t enough air in the world right at that moment. As Eliza fought for composure she focused only on his tattoo.
Yield to life—there is only threat of tomorrow.
His tattoo was inked in thin filigree with woven rope knots all around the words. One breath. Another. Each one became easier even as she grew closer, knowing she had to hide all her ruffled feathers. There wasn’t a single nuance Dru wouldn’t pick up on and exploit.
One step after another landed her front and center next to Dru as her best friend slung her arm around Eliza’s waist.
“Took you long enough,” Dru whispered in mock chastisement.
Before she could get a good look at the man, he turned and rummaged behind his counter, giving them both an all-access pass to perfect ass land. Eliza knew she should keep her eyes closed, but they were glued to the tight, sculpted muscles on the wicked stranger. The faire didn’t seem that bad anymore.
Dru squeezed Eliza’s torso until she met her best friend’s shining eyes, lit up with nothing but pure mischief. These were moments Dru lived for—any opportunity to tease. But it never bothered Eliza, it was all in good fun and her best friend meant well. She remained oddly silent. Despite the fact that Eliza all but flinched while she waited for whatever whispered barb her best friend would deliver on behalf of her less than subtle reaction to the intriguing man.
How could she not have a reaction when his damn presence practically demanded one?
“Ah, here it is.”
His voice rushed over her tingling down her back and she had to stop herself from taking an automatic step back. Irish, too? Oh, no. No, no, no. He was more than perfect and she hadn’t even said a thing to him yet. Why was she even there? So Dru could lord this man over her head—the perfect romance hero—or so they could be set up together for an awkward date and never see each other again?
Hell, maybe she was taking this whole thing too seriously, but their history of set-ups was long and varied. Even throughout college Dru wasn’t satisfied until they each had at least two dates a week.
This had to be some kind of evil set-up because clearly Dru knew the guy. They must be pulling this to screw with her head because poor little Eliza hadn’t been on a date in forever and who knows if there are cobwebs down there. This guy was some actor from Dru’s troop of players for sure. She’d done theater every summer for as long as Eliza could remember.
He came back up from his crouch behind the counter and turned back to them with something hidden behind his back. One long finger tipped up his hat. Eliza got her first straight on look at the man that she suspiciously regarded with every ounce of her petite frame.
His nose was slightly crooked. An old wound that hadn’t been set, maybe? A five o’clock shadow roughened the strong, square jaw and lips that were better suited on a female than the masculine portrait that acted as if he had nothing to hide. It took every last ounce of her will to gaze up below the brim of his hat.
He wore an eye patch. Whether or not it was for the faire or an actual problem, she couldn’t resist the edge of danger. His good eye—light brown with amber flecks—was bright with unreadable heat fixed solely on her face. She swallowed despite the lump in her throat. Nothing he did betrayed anything of how he was feeling or thinking—only the sharp look that pinned her to the floor.
And whatever he held behind his back.
For a long blink it was hard for Eliza to even remember that Dru’s hand rested around her waist. All she could focus on was the knowing twist of the stranger’s lips. The unwelcome and unexpected blush that seared against her skin when they hadn’t even spoken to each other made her fingers twitch at her side.
How could she resist him when he fit the caricature of an ideal man she’d been reading about in romances all her life? She was only stupidly comparing him to a man that didn’t exist. A string of perfections that couldn’t be real in one man. Left in the dust of her overwhelming horniness, well, she was being an idiot.
There wasn’t any other explanation for the way her hormones were skyrocketing off into different directions. He looked down into her eyes and she couldn’t help it—she giggled. That broke whatever fake connection she nursed in her mind. He plunked an item down onto the counter and shrugged back into his leather duster that had lain on the counter.
Without thinking, she blurted out the first sentence that flew across her scattered brain. An old habit that refused to die. And often led her to want to be buried in the same grave, instead of suffering the mortifying consequences.
“An eye patch, really? Aren’t you mixing genres with a cowboy and a pirate?”
Buy Links:
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-little-slap-and-tickle-elise-hepner/1116379648?ean=9781783751976
Xcite: http://www.xcitebooks.com/Book/10204/A-Little-Slap-and-Tickle.html
Bio: Elise Hepner lives with her husband and two eccentric cats in Maryland. She spends the majority of her free time in her basement office concocting smutty characters and sinful situations that leaves readers satisfied. When not writing, she researches everything from automatons in the 18th century to gladiatorial rules in Ancient Rome. She prides herself on being an avid information hound as well as a blog reading addict–which is her favorite way to procrastinate. Her previous publications include books and stories with Excessica, Xcite, Ellora’s Cave, Secret Cravings Publishing and Cleis Press.
Author Links:
Website: www.elisehepner.com
Twitter: www.twitter.com/EHepner
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Elise-Hepner-Writing/311925106401
****
Thanks ever so much Elise, for a great blog and such a tasty extract!
Happy reading everyone,
Kay x
January 8, 2014
Masturbation and Creativity By K D Grace/Grace Marshall
I’m delighted to introduce my first guest post of 2014. Let’s give a huge welcome to the amazing Kd Grace (aka Grace Marshall), to shout about the creativity of solo fun…
Over to you Kd…
As a novelist, who writes erotic romance, I’m proud to be a frequent masturbator, and I’m always a bit surprised that anyone could be ashamed of such a powerful creative force.
The ancient Egyptians believed masturbation was a creative act in its own right. In the Heliopolis creation myth, the god Amen rises from the primeval ocean, Nun, and masturbates the divine son and daughter into existence, and they populate the world.
Even if I look at the Judeo/Christian myth in the first two chapters of Genesis, where God speaks the world into existence, I’m still looking at a solo act.
Eric Francis on Betty Dodson and Carlin Ross’s Sex Information Online site writes, ‘Masturbation is the most elemental form of sexuality, requiring only awareness and a body.
Awareness and a body. Masturbating the world into existence. It happens all the time. At the risk of offering too much information, my understanding of sex, my deepest understanding of my own sexuality, comes from awareness and my own body. That’s what I have to work with. My understanding of writing, my deepest understanding of the creative forces in me also comes from awareness and my own self.
I’m astounded that in a world where solitude and the meditative tradition is a part of almost every religious discipline, we shy away from the very concepts that could have well given birth to it, awareness and Body. There can be no awareness without a body. And how can we possibly understand the boundaries and the limits of either without the two rubbing up against each other. Our act of one-ness, our proto-sexuality, as Eric Francis calls it, I suggest is, by its boundary-exploring nature, also our proto-creativity.
Some quotes taken from my blog post: http://kdgrace.co.uk/blog/masturbation-and-creativity/
Blurb for An Executive Decision: Sex in the contract – it’s the only way super-focused, over-worked CEO, Ellison Thorne, is ever going to get laid. That’s what his retiring business partner and secret match-maker, Beverly Neumann, thinks. She’s convinced no-strings, stress-free sex in certain employee contracts would raise productivity and minimize stress — perfect for a busy executive like Ellis. But she’s joking, right?
Enter her hand-picked replacement, Dee Henning. Young, hungry, gifted, Dee is the queen of no time for sex. When negotiations on a major project break down, and Dee and Ellis end up in each other’s arms, the Executive Sex Clause suddenly becomes more than a joke. In fact hot executive sex just might be the ultimate secret weapon for success. But secrets seldom remain secret, and Dee and Ellis soon learn there’s no such thing as no-strings where the heart is concerned.
Excerpt from An Executive Decision:
At last he pushed his chair back and looked up at her. ‘Marston refused the proposal.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said again.
‘Not that it was a huge surprise, but I could have done nicely without him berating me for hiring someone incompetent and irresponsible to take Beverly’s place. That didn’t exactly make my day. What the hell happened?’
She felt the heat rising up her spine and onto her ears. ‘I overslept.’ She forced the words out into the chilled room.
‘You overslept?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded imperceptibly, feeling the scrutiny of his glare.
For a long moment he just stared at her. She forced herself to meet his gaze and held her tongue, afraid if she tried to say anything she’d burst into tears, and she despised women who cried.
‘That’s it, then? You overslept.’
She nodded again, swallowing hard.
‘Well that’s a relief.’ He leaned forward in his chair and rose almost as though he were going to leap over the desk and pounce. The tension in his body was palpable. ‘I was afraid you were lying on the freeway somewhere in a pool of blood. I’m so relieved that it was nothing so dire, and that you simply overslept.’ With each word, his voice grew louder until he wasn’t exactly yelling, but neither was there any way she could miss his message as each word drove her deeper into her chair until she felt as trapped as if she had been tied there.
‘I’m sorry,’ she forced a whisper through the roadblock in her throat, but the stinging behind her eyes warned that a swift exit would be necessary if she were to avoid the flood.
‘Sorry? You’re sorry? Tally had to pick up the slack. Do you have any idea how that looked? Just when I was starting to make progress with Marston, just when the man was beginning to listen to reason, you oversleep. You made Jamison’s deal seem all the sweeter, that’s what you did. Now, tell me what the hell’s going on.’
‘Pardon?’
He moved from behind his desk and paced the carpet in front of her like a bull ready to charge. ‘You’re supposed to be working to shore up the situation with Scribal. I told you up front that’s your major concern at the moment, then not only do you oversleep and miss an important meeting, but I find out you’ve been working on something else behind my back.’ Before she could respond, he turned on her. ‘Is Trouvères what you’ve been staying up half the night and missing meetings for? When I hired you, I never thought you, of all people, would neglect your responsibilities.’
‘I’m not neglecting anything. If you would just –’
He interrupted her. ‘Don’t think just because I gave you this job, you suddenly know it all. I took a big risk hiring you.’ He stopped pacing and rooted himself in front of her, close enough that she had to strain her neck to look up at him. ‘You want to do something; you bring it to me first. You’re not ready to make that kind of decision on your own. You don’t have the experience it takes to…to… You’re not Beverly.’
His words were a hard slap, felt more than heard above the roar in her ears. She wasn’t sure the ragged breathing her brain finally registered in the chasm of silence that followed his tirade was his or her own.
The phone rang into the charged atmosphere and Ellis jerked it from its cradle in a strangle hold. ‘This had better be good, Lynn. Wade? What the hell does he want? Can’t it wait? We’re not finished yet. I can what?’ He heaved a sigh of resignation and slammed the receiver back down. ‘Wade wants to see you right now. He says I can get back to you on this, and believe me, I intend to.’ He nodded toward the door. ‘Well, go on, at least don’t keep him waiting. Pick up the notes on the meeting from Sandra.’
She stood on trembling legs and turned to go. As she reached for the door, he called to her. ‘Dee, I strongly suggest you make no more attempts to prove Marston right about you.’
*****
Still breathing like a freight train, Ellis watched Dee disappear shutting the door behind her. He grabbed up the phone and called his secretary. ‘Lynn, hold all my calls. I don’t want to be disturbed. How long? Until I say otherwise, that’s how long.’ He slammed the receiver down, snapped his laptop shut and stormed down the hall to the lounge.
He shoved his way out of his jacket and tossed it across the wingback chair, then practically strangled himself in his efforts to loosen his tie. From the coffee table he grabbed up the remote and plunged the room into the wild raucous ride of the third movement of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Then he dropped onto the sofa struggling to breath, struggling to regain control, struggling to figure out what the hell had just happened. All through the meeting, when Dee didn’t show up, he was terrified that something horrible had happened, terrified that he would lose Dee the same way he had lost Beverly. And the relief he felt at seeing her. Jesus, the relief was like nothing he’s ever felt before.
If Lynn hadn’t called, if Wade hadn’t demanded Dee’s presence … If Ellis had had one more second with her, he would have yanked her up from the chair and fucked her senseless right there in the middle of the day with all of Pneuma Inc just outside his door, fucked her as though he might never get another chance, fucked her as though his life depended on it, and that’s exactly how it felt. He wiped cold sweat from his forehead and struggled to breathe. If he’d lost her, Jesus! He couldn’t even bear the thought.
He jerked open his fly and sucked a harsh breath as he released himself into his hand and began to tug on his cock like the world was coming to an end. Christ, he couldn’t go on like this. It felt like he was always either avoiding her or jerking off thinking about her. And fuck if he wasn’t thinking about her all the time; the shape of her, the feel of her, the sass of her. He’d never wanted anything so badly. And then … and then she fucks up so royally that all he wanted to do was punish her, to turn her over his knee for giving him such a scare, to … to … to fuck her until she couldn’t walk.
The image flashed through his head, the image of him bending her over his desk and shoving up her skirt, the image of him ripping aside her panties, the image of him making her sorry she’d overslept, the image of him making her sorry she’d made him feel all those things, things he didn’t want to feel, the image of him dropping his trousers and shoving his cock up into her very contrite, very wet slit and … That was it. Before he could reach for his handkerchief, before he could even think about making it to the bathroom, he convulsed his load out over the coffee table to the driving piano crescendo hammering into his ears and to visions of Dee Henning bent over his desk moaning and writhing beneath him.
An Executive Decision is available from:
eBook
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble
iBooks
Kobobooks.com
Xcite Books
Print
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Barnes & Noble
The Book Depository
Xcite Books
About K D Grace/Grace Marshall
K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?
When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.
K D has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.
K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available. She was nominated for ETO’s Best Erotic Author 2013.
K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition are all available.
Find K D Here:
Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/
http://gracemarshallromance.co.uk/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace
****
Many thanks Kd for coming to over today!!
Happy reading – and playing- everyone!
Kay xx
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