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Celebrating The Collared Collection: Interview with a Pet

boxsetpre

I can’t tell you how excited I am about the upcoming release of The Collared Collection – my chance to be in cahoots with Kay Jaybee! The Collared Collection puts The Voyeur and The Pet Shop together in a two-volume box set. It’s such a pleasure to see our names together on a box set that contains two of our very favourite, and possibly our kinkiest works.

 

The Collared Collection is a two novel boxed set from the pens of multi-award winning erotica writers, Kay Jaybee and Kd Grace .

 

The Collared Collection is up for pre-order now, so nab yours early and enjoy all the kink and all the sizzle that much faster. You won’t regret it.

 

Pre-order The Collared Collection Here:

http://mybook.to/collaredcollection

 

And in honour of The Collared Collection and to titillate you a bit, here’s and interview with Tino from The Pet Shop. Enjoy!

 

Collared bundle - CopyThe Collared Collection Box Set Blurb:
In The Voyeur by Kay Jaybee, wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of 13 fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite BDSM 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 Bridge’s gentleman’s club, Anya’s previous employer and a place she was delighted to escape from, have over Mark?

In order to find out, the girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they had left behind them all over again.

 

In The Pet Shop by KD Grace: In appreciation for a job well done, Stella James’s boss sends her a pet, a human pet. The mischievous Tino comes straight from The Pet Shop complete with a collar, a leash, and an erection. Stella soon discovers the pleasure of keeping Pets, especially this one, it’s extremely addicting. Obsessed with Tino and with the reclusive philanthropist, Vincent Evanston, who looks like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, Stella is drawn into the secret world of The Pet Shop. As her animal lust awakens, Stella must walk the thin line that seperates the business of pleasure from the more dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

 

Interview with a Pet

I was really lucky to get an interview with Tino because Tino’s The Pet Shop’s most popular Pet, and his schedule is always full. But just looking at those lovely dark eyes and that bedroom mussed auburn hair, I can see why. Anyway, Tino had to work me in to his schedule, after all he does have a starring role in MY novel, and now in The Collared Collection, so he owes me.

KD: Welcome, Tino! *smooths hair, checks breath in hand* It’s lovely of you to let me interview you. I just want to say that it’s a real pleasure to meet you in person and…

Oh, sorry folks, I just remembered, The Pet Minder’s Manual says Pets only wear clothes in public and
they’re much more comfortable naked. I certainly wouldn’t want Tino to be uncomfortable, so I’ll just get him out of this shirt. (breathe, KD, Breathe!) And now the trousers and then we can get on with the… Oh my! *checks to make sure she’s not actually drooling*

There now, that’s better, isn’t it, Tino? Ah, that’s sweet. Tino’s sitting on the floor now with his head resting on my thigh. I think that means he likes me. I have been assured that he won’t bite… not unless I tell him to. Though I do hear he has a reputation for being a bit naughty at times. I suppose that’s my fault because, well, I did write him that way. Anyway, on with the interview.

KD: So, Tino, tell us about being a Pet. What’s it like having a keeper for a weekend and letting them take care of you and feed you and bathe you? And what’s it like taking care of their needs, if you know what I mean.

Tino: …..

KD: Um … I know the Pet Minder’s manual says that Pets don’t talk. Okay, I can understand that, Tino, d21d10b7afd3ca521ab7d563891fc7a7I understand you staying in character and all. No doubt that’s what makes having a Pet such a stimulating experience. But this is an interview. I mean you’re not really MY Pet. Surely you could just give us a little clue. After all I did write you, remember?

Tino: …

KD: Okay, maybe that question’s a bit personal. We certainly don’t want to infringe on the privacy of any of your keepers, Tino. Here’s a good question, and I’m sure our readers are dying to know. I’ve heard that no one actually knows where The Pet Shop is, not even the Pets. I’ve heard that Pets come and go by way of black vans and they never see the route. Is that true? I’ve heard that some people have chosen to become full-time Pets and never leave the Pet Shop, but others, like you, enjoy having a keeper. Why do you suppose that is?

Tino: ….

KD: Tino? Tino what are you doing? Tino, stop that! Stop that right now. You’re a bad boy! You know you’re not supposed to play with your… er to behave badly during an interview. *whispers next to Tino’s ear* Look, Tino, I know you want to play, but I’m trying to do an interview here, for godsake!

Oh dear. Jeez. This is a bit embarrassing, everyone, I do apologize. He’s bent over offering me his bottom. And the manual does say that naughty Pets have to be punished. It says they have to be taught who’s the alpha in the Pet/keeper relationship, and… er I guess that would be me. It says that I either need to use my hand or a rolled up newspaper on that lovely backside. Could you folks excuse me for just a minute. *spanks luscious offered-up, bare bottom until it’s nice and pink.*

Wow! I never realized before just how a good spanking applied to a tight, muscular bottom can sting one’s hand. Oooh, that’s tender! Never mind.

Now then, where were we? Oh yes. You’re probably wondering why I’m interviewing a Pet from the Pet Shop when he isn’t allowed to even speak. Well, first of all, let me just say if you could see this luscious pink bottom, and the rest of the package you wouldn’t have to ask.

But, actually that’s only a part of the reason I wanted to interview Tino. You see, I have it on good authority that in his life in the real world, Tino’s actually the reclusive, richer-than-God eco-warrior, and entrepreneur, Vincent Evanston. Problem is, no one has seen the man in ages. But Stella James has shown me archive photos of Vincent Evanston, and we agree. He sure looks a lot like Tino.

Actually, I was able to catch up with Vincent Evanston. I managed to get hold of his unlisted Blackberry number. You probably wonder how I could manage that. Well, it’s simple really. He’s my characterJ I thought since he could talk and Tino might not be willing to that maybe I could get a statement from him.

Poor timing on my part, really. I caught him in the woods photographing pileated woodpeckers. He really didn’t appreciate the interruption. But when I asked him if he were Tino, he just sort of growled at me and said, I quote, ‘Tino’s not here.’ Then he hung up on me. Kind of rude, really, but you can be that way when your rich and brooding, and you look like…well you look like Tino. Only with clothes – outdoorsy, manly, sexy sort of clothes…

Well folks, I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed. I’m a pretty good interviewer, and I was sure if anyone could get Tino to talk, I could. But instead, he’s just sitting on the floor licking my leg with that delicious, pink tongue of his. He’s sitting kind of tenderly on that tight little bottom I just spanked, which I have to say, leaves his impressive package, rather well-exposed. *Makes an effort not to look. Sort of.* Still, I did write Tino, after all. If anyone can get him to talk, it should be me. Let’s try again.


KD:
Tino, rumour has it you’re spending an awful lot of time with Stella James, that new employee over at the Stridgida Company. I hear she’s scheduled you to spend yet another weekend with her. She knows you’re not cheap, right? Frankly I’m surprised she’d have you at all, since I hear she’s a bit of a prude.

Tino:… *Nips KD’s thigh and rubs himself against it*

KD: Ouch! I thought you weren’t supposed to bite unless I asked. So, can I take that to mean Stella’s no prude? Maybe we’ve worked out a code here, folks, a way of communicating that doesn’t involve talking. This is a good sign – a nip on the thigh for no, and a lick for yes? How about that, Tino? Will that work? Oooh! Not sure what that meant. Never mind, let’s try to get on with it. So tell me, Tino, is it possible that a certain very popular Pet might be a little bit smitten? Tino! Tino, stop humping my leg! God, this is so embarrassing. Stop it right now or I’ll have to punish you again.

Wait a minute. I get the feeling you might be liking this whole spanking thing just a little too much.

Let’s talk a little more about Stella James. I heard while Stella was in Oregon on business, she actually met Vincent Evanston, quite by accident. Sorry Tino, but that sounds like way more than a coincidence to me. And if anyone can get to the bottom of this whole Tino/Vincent mystery, well I think Stella is the 7401867966b49d9e25e799def0c09daewoman to do it. Surely you have something to say about that, Tino?

Tino:

KD: Tino! Tino stop it. I’m trying to type an interview here and you can’t be blrrrrk me. Tino, am I going to have to spknf;asdoj you again? Tino, move! I can’t see the monitor with yourmcdksn in my xmdlos;pa.

Umm, looks like that’s it for the interview, folks I’m happy we hadal ldkf;lkeoi. I hope you’ll alkmlasdfl The Collared Collection and that you vrpeyx@@@ Kay Jaybee’s novel, The Voyeur, and the xcdewpelkfj; my novel, The Pet Shop to find out the trsa;ldkfj about Tino and Vincent. Thanks again, for ssssssdrpioeu me. Now if you’ll excuse me I really have to punnlaknsf a naughty Pettttttttt.

 

The Collared Collection — Kay Jaybee & K D Grace Together: Pre-Order Now

Collared bundleI can’t tell you how excited I am to be in serious cahoots with Kay Jaybee! It’s been a long time coming! (Oooh! You see what I did there?) Kay and I have been dreaming and scheming for ages about doing a joint project. We’ve been urged by our readers and have even spent a couple of nights in hotel bars before readings scheming and plotting something new. BUT for both of us time is always a major issue, and when that scheming led us to the alternate plan of putting The Voyeur and The Pet Shop together in a two-volume box set, The Collared Collection, we figured it was a great start. It’s such a pleasure to see our names together on a box set that contains two of our very favourite, and possibly our kinkiest works.

 

The Collared Collection is up for pre-order now, so nab yours early and enjoy all the kink and all the sizzle that much faster. You won’t regret it. And it’s totally my pleasure to offer you a little teasing taste of Kay Jaybee’s fabulous novel, The Voyeur, to tempt you.

 

The Collared Collection is a two novel boxed set from the pens of multi-award winning erotica writers, Kay Jaybee and Kd Grace .

 

Blurb The Collared Collection Box Set:S6304891
In The Voyeur by Kay Jaybee, wealthy businessman and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of 13 fantasies he is intent on turning into reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite BDSM 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 Bridge’s gentleman’s club, Anya’s previous employer and a place she was delighted to escape from, have over Mark?

In order to find out, the girls are going to have to face some of the fantasies they thought they had left behind them all over again.

 

In The Pet Shop by KD Grace: In appreciation for a job well done, Stella James’s boss sends her a pet, a human pet. The mischievous Tino comes straight from The Pet Shop complete with a collar, a leash, and an erection. Stella soon discovers the pleasure of keeping Pets, especially this one, it’s extremely addicting. Obsessed with Tino and with the reclusive philanthropist, Vincent Evanston, who looks like Tino, but couldn’t be more different, Stella is drawn into the secret world of The Pet Shop. As her animal lust awakens, Stella must walk the thin line that seperates the business of pleasure from the more dangerous business of the heart or suffer the consequences.

 

Extract from The Voyeur

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.d21d10b7afd3ca521ab7d563891fc7a7

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…

 

 

Buy The Collared Collection Here:

http://mybook.to/collaredcollection

 http://www.amazon.co.uk/Collared-Collection-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B01AIWPHRU/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1453823467&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Collared+Collection

http://www.amazon.com/Collared-Collection-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B01AIWPHRU/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1453892564&sr=1-1&keywords=The+Collared+Collection

 

 

kay jaybee subclub

 

About Kay Jaybee:

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO

Kay received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee wrote The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (The Perfect Submissive, The Retreat, Knowing Her Place, Xcite 2011-14), The New Room, (Xcite, 2015), The Voyeur, (Xcite 2012), Making Him Wait (Sweetmeats, 2012), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress, 2013.

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found at www.kayjaybee.me.uk

 

You can follow Kay here:

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook –http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads- http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes Site- http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

Kay also writes contemporary romance as Jenny Kane – www.jennykane.co.uk

 

 

Out Now – Love Bites by Queenie Black (@queenieblackwr1) #erotica #ku #kindleunlimited

Love BitesBlurb:

Elevator Magic
A steamy encounter in an elevator makes Cass the center of attention for two sexy men. Is it just hot sex for them or will Cass have to make some life-changing choices?

Immortal Longings
Not one, but two Greek gods in her bed. How’s a girl to choose? Must Zoe’s sensual holiday romance end in farewell, or will she try to make her own heaven on earth with two demigods?

Eleanor’s Choice
Eleanor explores the shadowy world of submission – her marriage depends on it. Will the Master give her an experience she can use to please her husband, or is it time to walk away?

Love Bites
Lonely Ella is mesmerised by the owner of a chocolate shop. Drawn into Lang’s rich, seductive web, she grows to fear as well as desire him. What is the secret he is hiding from her?
These four short stories contain too-hot-to-handle Greek gods, a sexy Vampire who might just turn out to be a killer, a Master who can wield a crop with artistry, and two delicious CEOs who know how to keep a woman happy. Oh, and chocolate, BDSM, MFM Mènage and sex in an elevator.

Universal Amazon link: http://viewbook.at/lovebites

 

Excerpt:

ELEVATOR MAGIC

“You know what? You can take your job and stick it.” Mad as hell I grabbed my purse and stomped out of the little cubicle I called my office. I was done here and I was never coming back and fuck the giving notice part.

The elevator always took ages to creak its way between floors and I could feel the stabbing pressure of what felt like a thousand eyes in my back. Of course they were all watching. They’d been waiting for something like this to happen for twenty months. Just then melodic chimes signaled the arrival of the executive elevator. The one that normal people like me are forbidden to ride in, the one for the exalted rich and the bosses who live in the penthouse. I wanted to escape the avid looks that were directed my way and, what the hell, what could they do anyway? Sack me?

So I stepped into it.

I turned and, just before the doors closed, got a good view of open mouths, staring eyes and was that…envy? It certainly looked like it from where I was standing. As the doors slid silently shut, I raised my hand and gave a little finger wave.

The car was bigger than my bedroom, and a thousand times more luxurious but I hardly noticed the mirrored walls and the thick-as-a-mattress carpet. My attention was caught and held by the two guys already in there, one on my left and one on my right.

My gaze darted between the two of them and I felt guilty colour sting my cheeks. I hadn’t expected company but I wasn’t objecting. These guys were fit and built. One dark-haired and smoooooth, the other blonde and just-got-in-out-of-the-wild rough.

And I knew them. Brandon Shaw and Mitchell Graham owned the company I work – ooops, scratch that – the company I used to work for. I’d met them at work events, like the Christmas party and the Halloween party and the Employee of the Year party. I’d seen them a couple of times from a distance. They always had a flock of female employees around them.

I’d heard people described as chick magnets but only realised exactly what it meant when I saw these two. I used to feel their magic pull yet always stayed away because initially I was in a relationship, and then afterwards was suffering from a broken heart and struggling to cope with a job where my ex was screwing a colleague. Pity my ex didn’t take a leaf out of these guys’ books – there was never any suggestion that they had slept with anyone from the company. Which meant in the end that there was a gentle rumor that they were a) gay, or b) didn’t like vanilla and went for the more exotic, with their tastes catered for elsewhere.

I positioned myself with my back to the wall and let my gaze slide over them. To my right was Brandon. He’d taken off his suit jacket and had it hooked over one shoulder. Beneath the fine fabric of his shirt I could see the hard muscle of a broad chest, arrowing down to a pair of narrow hips and a huge bulge… Oh man.

I licked my lips and dragged my reluctant gaze away to focus on his face. He was watching me scope him out. There was a hard predatory glint in his eyes. Heat speared through me from my cheekbones to my pussy, part embarrassment and part desire. I squeezed my thighs together to stop the growing ache.

I quickly glanced away and found myself checking out Mitchell on my left. He was slightly shorter than his partner, and seemed kinder and less predatory too. His eyes were a softer green, more jade than emerald. But his shoulders were as wide and he sported an identical erection. Were they lovers? A pity for womankind if they were gay. What a loss.

I shouldn’t be in the elevator with them in the first place but the new militant me with nothing to lose didn’t care. So instead of fixing my gaze on the floor and fighting the temptation to look again, I enjoyed the view. They put my slimeball ex to shame and my panties grew damp while they silently watched me. I wished that I was wearing something a little less conservative when the elevator jerked to a sudden halt.

Not a nice, slow, we’ve arrived kind of halt but the scary kind.

The lights went out.

Panic dug its claws into me, not letting go even when the emergency lighting kicked in.

“What’s happening?” I didn’t even try and keep the terrified squeak out of my tone.

“Hey,” Brandon said softly, “it’s going to be alright. They’ll have it fixed in no time.”

“It’s broken?” I hated the idea of being shut in closed spaces, and the car, despite its size and luxury, suddenly felt very small. I couldn’t bear to spend hours locked in here hanging over all that empty space. The walls closed in, my hands and feet went cold, and I struggled to breath.

“Now you’ve done it, Brandon.”

“Easy.” When had they got so close to me? I was crowded by two warm male bodies that smelt good. Having them so close, almost touching me, took my mind off the elevator.

“Rub her hands, Mitchell. Get some warmth into them, she’s freezing.”

Mitchell sandwiched my hands between his palms and rubbed hard. The movement distracted me, not because he was making my hands warmer, which he was, but because he kept bumping my breasts.  Awareness rushed through me and my nipples went hard as cherry stones and poked at my blouse. Brandon’s hands rested lightly on my hips but they might as well have been brands. I could feel every finger as if there were no clothing between us. Woodsy cologne, mingled with clean male musk, swirled around me. My pussy creamed and I couldn’t help it; my wayward body leant back until I was pressed hard against Brandon.

His cock, huge and promising, seared my lower back. I couldn’t prevent a small sound escaping. I felt my cheeks go hot. What must they think of me?

Mitchell’s expression was rich with satisfaction in the dim light.

“Shall we carry on distracting you, baby?”

I shivered, my panties drenched as my body answered the question for them.  Brandon nuzzled the sensitive spot beneath my ear. His voice rumbled right through my body as he asked, “Ever been double-fucked before?”

The crude honesty of his question embarrassed me and I couldn’t answer. Then I forgot what he asked because Mitchell dropped to his knees in front of me. His hands stroked slowly up the back of my thighs. They smoothed over stockings, and then paused when they reached my lacy garters.

*****

Author bio:

I’ve been writing pretty much since I was able to read. I juggle fundraising for charities, family life and writing with varying success. My children have mostly flown the nest and I live in a small village in North Yorkshire, England with my husband and some chickens. I write in an old caravan in the garden where I can’t be tempted to procrastinate on the internet.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/queenieblackauthor/?fref=ts

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/queenieblackwr1

releaseblitzbutton_lovebites

 

Lily Harlem Can Take the Heat!

heatoftheday_800The Heat in Spain

By Lily Harlem

Thank you for inviting me to your blog today, KD, it’s great to be here once more. I’ve brought with me my new novella Heat of the Day. It’s a ménage a trois story with M/F, M/M and M/F/M scenes in it and set in beautiful Southern Spain.

I’ve been lucky enough to spend quite a lot of time on the Costa Del Sol in and out of the holiday season. It’s a beautiful place, there’s always something going on and the people watching—if that’s something you enjoy doing, which I certainly do—is incredible.

You can sit in Peurto Banus and admire the super-cars crawl by as you sip on sangria and lust after the yachts in the marina. Wandering around the old town of Marbella is always a treat and I particularly love the quaint, cobbled squares which have orange trees providing shade for diners at the exquisite little restaurants – Ohh the tapas! And all the time the majestic Sierra Nevada mountain range towers in the distance.

If you’re feeling flush and in the mood to party don’t miss Nikki Beach. It’s THE place to be seen for the young, hip and rich crowd and a day there consists of music, dancing and drinking champagne – awesome fun! I was lucky enough to get in there once by tagging along with some cool friends!

But it’s the long walks along the beachfronts and promenades that I enjoy the most. The Golden Mile is strung with beautiful villas to admire, there are sand artists in Marbella to stun you as you wander with an ice-cream and if you’re fortunate enough to get on a boat out to sea, you can take a trip to Morocco or Gibraltar. Look out for dolphins too, there’s plenty about.

nikki-beach-It’s my love of this area that brought my decision to set Heat of the Day here. My threesome aren’t rich by any means and certainly wouldn’t have the funds to hit Nikki Beach. They are bar workers who have fallen into a wonderful summer of threesome love, until that is, they are forced apart. But you know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder and when they reunite, phew, the heat of Costa Del Sol is nothing compared to the heat these three feel for each other.

I’m looking forward to a return trip to Southern Spain, I hope perhaps next year, but until then, I’ll keep my heart and thoughts there by using it as a place to set my stories.

Thanks for reading

Lily x

 

10403203_10152653009484149_8858646410541605500_nBack Cover Information for Heat of the Day

When three become two with no explanation, emotions run high, passions flare and hearts are ripped apart.

Everyone can remember a perfect summer—one with endless blue skies, a heart brimming with true love and nights full of hot, sweaty lust. Well, we’ve just had a summer like that, Piper and I, and it was spent in Spain with a man who had that certain je ne sais quoi that we couldn’t resist.

Seraphim came into our lives and blinded us with his beauty, his charisma and his exotic charm. His generosity with his mind, his affection and his body blew us away and the three of us became a joyously tangled trio who needed nothing more than to be together.

So when he left, when we had no way of tracing him, the despair was black, the pain raw and our only comfort was each other. But why did Sera leave? What would make a man walk away from his lovers? And if he showed up again on the doorstep, what the hell would happen after so much angst? One thing’s for sure, it would be an explosive reunion in many ways. Absence might make the heart grow fonder, but it can make the rest of the body highly volatile as need wars with hurt, and pain collides with desire.

 

Reader Advisory: This book contains M/M and M/F scenes.

Buy Heat of the Day from Amazon, Amazon UK, Pride and all other good ebook retailers.

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In The Heat of the Day Excerpt 18+

 

Eventually they wandered up the wooden steps to their two-bedroom mobile home. They’d never slept in the second bedroom, it was just used for storage, but it meant the living area was clear for lounging. Plus they had a nice bit of decking with a BBQ that had been well used during the summer.

Flynn flung open a few windows to let the heat of the day out then pulled the guitar from his back.

Piper switched on the shower then proceeded to strip off her clothes.

He sat and watched, absently tuning and strumming, admiring the sway of her breasts and the way her limbs moved like fluid. Even hot and tired she was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen.

“Play while I shower,” she said, curling her hair onto the top of her head and securing it with a pin.

“Anything you wish, my lady.”

She disappeared into the small bathroom.

Flynn listened as the sound of the water became interrupted by her body then he started a lilting melody he knew she adored. The music flowed from his fingertips, the words rolled from his mouth in one long sound. His breathing steadied and his bones relaxed within his skin.

supercarThe song was about happy times. Lovers who’d smiled then left. How goodbye was the hardest word.

Halfway through he stopped. A knot of determination twisted his gut. He had to snap out of this and be thankful for the love he had. The woman who made his life the one he wanted to live.

He set down his guitar then quickly shucked off his shorts. He stood in the tiny bathroom and watched Piper holding her face to the stream of water. Her hair was flattened and hung like a long, thin snake down her back. Her breasts jutted upward and her small strip of pubic hair was pressed to her flesh.

He pulled off his T-shirt.

His cock was hard, his heart beating fast. It was time to say goodbye to Sera, for today at least, and claim his woman.

He squeezed into the shower cubicle and circled her with his arms.

“Flynn,” she said, tensing a little. “I was listening to that. Why’d you stop?”

“Enough listening.” He nibbled her earlobe. “Time to start doing.”

She spun in his arms and pressed close. Her skin was like wet silk, her arms a slender vise as they wound around him. “Okay, so where do you want to start?” Her voice held a tone of humor.

“Right here.” He slipped down to his knees. His butt touched the cool, steamy wall and he was aware of Piper also pressing against the edge of the tiny cubicle. “Open up,” he said, his mouth against her belly as he pressed his palms to her inner thighs. “Let me in.”

She did as he’d asked, widening her stance.

He could see the delicate folds of her pussy, the crease of her lips and the trickle of the water over her mound. He adored tasting her, making her come on his tongue, and it was what he wanted to do right now.

“Flynn,” she gasped, threading her fingers into his hair. “Oh God, yes, please.”

“Are you begging for it?” he asked and glanced upward.

“If that’s what it takes.” She grinned sinfully and tilted her hips.

He’d have taken his tongue to her whether she’d begged or not, but it was nice to know she wanted it as much as he did. He cupped her ass and speared into the crack of her lips, arrowing through sweet skin and onto her clit.

“Oh yeah,” she said on a moan, her knees giving a little.

He flicked some more, using the flat of his tongue against her sensitive bud. He knew how to make her 1779813_189620004723549_1699793449950599888_ncome in a minute or two like this but he hadn’t yet decided whether to or not. Maybe he’d just get her desperate for it with a fast oral session then toss her onto the bed and feel her come around his cock. God, he loved that, when she was hot and wet, gripping him, spasming around him.

He released her ass and sought her entrance, pushed two fingers in, rejoicing in the tight sweetness that hugged him.

“Flynn…oh, fuck…I’m going to…” She hooked one leg over his shoulder.


No, you’re not.

He continued to work her up but lightened the touch of his tongue. He wanted to keep her hovering.

She ground against him and tugged his hair. Her body was hot, writhing, frantic almost. On and on he teased and pleased. Her juices mixed with the water and the scent of soap swirled around them.

“Ah, fucking hell, Flynn, don’t tease…” She pressed her heel to his back and sank her buttocks onto his cupped hand. “Let me come. He would in a minute. But right now he was enjoying the fact that only this miniscule cubicle, the water and his tongue existed for her.

 lily-harlem

 

About Lily Harlem: 

Lily Harlem lives in the UK with a workaholic hunk and a crazy cat. With a desk overlooking rolling hills her over active imagination has been allowed to run wild and free and she revels in using the written word as an outlet for her creativity.

Lily’s stories are made up of colourful characters exploring their sexuality and sensuality in a safe, consensual way. With the bedroom door left wide open the reader can hang on for the ride and Lily hopes by reading sensual romance people will be brave enough to try something new themselves? After all, life’s too short to be anything other than fully satisfied

 

Find Lily Harlem Here:

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

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Newsletter Subscription http://www.lilyharlem.com/newsletter-subscription.html

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

 

 

IS Zak Jane Keir Keeping it Real?

SFWL COVERWhen it comes to being asked That Question, the one that gets asked of erotica writers far more than writers in any other genre, the ‘Have you really done all that stuff you write about?’ question, my answers have included ‘Maybe…’ ‘Well, what do you think?’ and ‘Look, pal, if I’d done all of that I’d probably be dead by now.’

 

Most erotica writers have had sex. Most erotica writers really like sex, and either spend a lot of time having it or thinking about ways in which they would like to have it, and who they would like to have it with. (People who really don’t like sex do not make good erotica writers, especially when they are people who think erotica is both crap and a shortcut to easy money.) Sometimes, we use the sex we’ve had, or the sex we might have, or the sex we want to have with certain individuals as yet impervious to our charms, as the basis for our stories, which is absolutely fine as long as we change the names and physical attributes enough to keep ourselves safe from outrage, hurt feelings or lawsuits. Not only is it ethical to remove identifying details if your starting point is someone you know – or would like to know better – but doing so takes your work where it needs to go: further into the wonderful, fertile, unlimited territory of the author’s imagination.

 

Some of the stories in my new anthology are just a little tiny bit based on things I got up to and things I might like to get up to. Because I run reading slams, that can sometimes make things even more interesting, should there be someone in the audience who recognises himself or herself in what’s being read out. Advice given to anyone new to public speaking often includes a suggestion of picking one member of the audience to look at and telling yourself that you are addressing that one person. I would have to say that if what you are reading is some erotica you have written and it has some particular relevance to a member of the audience then the last thing you want to do is catch that person’s eye when you get to the good bits. You will either go purple in the face with embarrassment or be consumed with such lust that you drop your clipboard and have to press your thighs together tightly. Other listeners may be intrigued and thrilled by the almost palpable erotic tension in the room, or they may just think you are a dipstick who hasn’t prepared your material very well – or that you are drunk. Depending on how much your actual relationship with the person in question varies from the one you have been writing about may also affect how well your performance goes, er, down: if s/he is someone you are seeing/married to/about to consummate a flirtation with then there is a good chance of thrills all round. However, if you have an unrequited crush and the object of your affections turns green and flees the premises, then you will just have to console yourself with the fact that your mortification has made the evening memorable for everyone else.

 

You may be wondering if this is the sort of thing that actually happens at DSW slam nights. My possible answers to that might include ’Maybe’ ‘What do you think?’ and ‘Why don’t you come and find out for yourself?’

 

EXTRACT: The Tops, from Sticky Fingers And Warm Leatherette

 

She sauntered through the crowd, head high, face composed. Her long, light-brown hair was caught up in a high ponytail on the crown of her head; her scarlet latex catsuit gleamed under the lights and her patent leather boots shone just as brightly. She carried a scarlet suede flogger with twelve tails, fastened to her wrist with a loop of plaited black leather, and her make up was still entirely flawless. Pausing for a moment at the far end of the bar, she contemplated getting another vodka, but decided against it. For the moment, she wanted to keep her head clear. Besides, soon enough some slave or other would probably want to endear himself to her with the offer of a drink.

 

In the alcove by the staircase, she saw a beautiful Japanese girl who hadn’t been around for months but was clearly delighted to be here tonight. She was leaning back in her chair, eyes shut and lips slightly parted, her fingers splayed on the table top. Passing a little closer by, Lynsey was able to tell that there was someone kneeling between the other woman’s legs, but couldn’t be sure if it was male or female. Not that it mattered, naturally. She smiled and walked on, silently wishing the pair of them well. House of Sinners was one of the more permissive clubs, and it was definitely one of those nights when people were inclined to go for it. Interesting, really, how the mood of a whole club could vary from month to month: even in the more behave-yourself venues such as the city centre wine bar that hosted Leather&Chain: from time to time there would be a night when there was something in the air and people would keep disappearing off to the loos, all giggly and conspiratorial and coming back with naughty, sated looks on their faces. Lynsey had had her own share of that sort of thing, though she tended to prefer waiting till the end of the night and taking her captive home in a taxi before getting really intimate.

 

She spotted another couple in a corner on the top floor, near the dungeon: this time it was a man sitting back with a blissful expression, and no table to conceal anyone’s view of the girl on her knees in front of him. She was naked, apart from a neat and unadorned set of black leather cuffs, and a matching collar round her slender neck. As Lynsey drew near, the girl raised her head slightly so that she held only the tip of her lover’s impressive tool between her gloss-smeared lips, her tongue presumably working on the little slit in his cock-head, probing and teasing and tantalising in the hope of triggering the mouthfuls of hot spunk she appeared to crave. Her eyes were half-open, but there was a moment where her gaze and Lynsey’s met, and Lynsey had a dizzying flash of imagining herself in that position, naked, on her knees, gobbling a huge cock, maybe fingering herself as she sucked and licked and all-but devoured… She shook her head and moved quickly on.

 

 

About Zak:

Zak Jane Keir is a veteran writer of erotic fiction and occasional ranty blog posts. She also runs Dirty Sexy Words erotica slams in London.

 

 

Find her books here:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=dp_byline_sr_ebooks_1?ie=UTF8&text=Zak+Jane+Keir&search-alias=digital-text&field-author=Zak+Jane+Keir&sort=relevancerank

 

 

Find out more about Dirty Sexy Words here:

https://www.facebook.com/DirtySexyWords/

 

 

 
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The Romance Reviews

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