Tag Archives: Kay Jaybee

Celebrating The Collared Collection: Interview with a Pet

January 31, 2016Blog, New Releases, NewsBDSM erotica, box set, Kay Jaybee, new release, pre-order, The Collared Collection, The Pet Shop, The VoyeurK D Grace

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!

The 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, d21d10b7afd3ca521ab7d563891fc7a7 I 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 7401867966b49d9e25e799def0c09dae woman 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

January 28, 2016Blog, Guest Blogger, New Releases, NewsBDSM, box set, erotica, Kay Jaybee, new release, Pre-order blitz, The Collared Collection, The Pet Shop, The VoyeurK D Grace

Collared bundle I 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.

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.

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

Mixing Those Festive Fantasies with Kay Jaybee

November 23, 2015Blog, Guest Blogger, New ReleasesChristmas erotica, erotica seasonal release, Kay Jaybee, kinkK D Grace

Many thanks for inviting me over today Kd, to tell you a little bit about my kinky Christmas stories.

I’m something of a big kid when it comes to the festive season. It is the only time of year that I actually enjoy shopping and cooking. There is something so rewarding about it- I guess I’m a softy at heart. I just adore making other people happy, and to find the perfect gift for friends and family is a mission I embark on with gusto.

An extension of this “making people smile at Christmas” mission is to try and provide my loyal readers with something seasonally smutty every winter. This year I have been so busy ‘being’ Jenny Kane that I haven’t had time to write a whole new collection. However, I have had great fun updating my very sexy anthology, Christmas Kink. Not only is there a hot new cover, but a brand new story called If You Go down to the Woods… to tickle those erotic taste buds!

Christmas Kink Blurb-

What’s your favourite part of the Christmas celebration? Decorating the tree with tinsel, the heavenly aroma of cinnamon and fruit from Christmas cakes and puddings, the office Christmas party, a visit to Santa’s grotto, the presents?

Kay Jaybee’s Christmas Kink twists all of these festive traditions into five individual episodes of hot erotica that will leave you fanning yourself with the nearest Christmas card…

There is something for everyone in this anthology, so if you like your erotica romantic, steamy, S&M, BDSM style, or with a sprinkling of cinnamon (yes, really), you should be in for a treat!

Here’s a little taster from a cooking story (ish!), for you…

Cake Mix

It was the abrupt scrape of metal on metal that alerted his attention to the oncoming storm. It was an abrasive jarring sound that hit Andy’s ears like nails on a blackboard, but made his crotch twitch in anticipation- he knew what could happen when she got angry.

‘I suppose you think it’s funny!’ Mel dragged her blunt icing knife over the draining board in a fit of frustration, before clattering it into the nearest sink, and picking up the reel of garland she used to wrap around the finished Christmas cakes.

‘For fuck’s sake Andy! How could you have been so stupid! This is our reputation you’re dicing with here. What will they think when we fail to deliver in time for Christmas!’ She strode across the kitchen and wrenched the jug of milk her partner was holding from his fingers, crashing it down onto the stainless steel table.

‘For the last time Mel, it was a mistake. I misheard them. And anyway, if we can pull this off, then it’ll be so good for us. Our reputation will be even better than it is now, and we might even make a profit for once.’

Andy could virtually see the steam shooting from her ears as she growled in exasperation, toying the ribbon between her hands, ‘But 150 cakes by this Friday. It was supposed to be 50!’

‘We can do it! I’ll bake, you ice. We’ll manage.’

‘Oh stop being so damn reasonable. No to mention disillusioned! You’ll never get them all cooked in time, let alone be able to produce enough mixture. We’ll have to go to the wholesalers, we’ll need…’ Not bothering to finish her sentence, Mel exhaled in a mad rush of air, threw up her hands in exasperation, and pushed Andy backwards with a force that her slim physique belied. Grabbing both his arms, and with a skill honed by a career decorating cakes, she wrapped some of the ribbon around his wrists.

‘Come off it Mel, we certainly don’t have time for this!’

Without responding, she sliced the ribbon from the roll, picked up her spatula, and waved it menacingly at his face. Mel’s midnight blue eyes shone with dangerous intent, and Andy’s dick swayed beneath his trousers as he understood her intention.

‘Turn over!’ Her voice was brittle, but the evidence of her nipples poking against her chefs overall told its own story.

‘Mel! I’ve got all that mixture waiting to go into tins.’

She didn’t reply, but the set of her jaw spoke volumes as Mel yanked Andy around at the waist, dragging his chequered trousers and boxers to his ankles, forcing him across the seat of the stool.

The spatula landed on his naked flesh before his stomach had even hit the seat. The fierceness of the strike made him bellow with pain laced anger and desire. For once he resented his submissive role. A role he was usually more than happy to adopt- but not today. Not this time.

Just as the second strike of the spatula was about to hit his red blotched backside. Andy twisted round, kicked his trousers from his feet, and raising his tethered hands, he shoved Mel away. Acting quickly, he awkwardly scooped a large fistful of sticky fruit filled brandy soaked Christmas cake mix, and launched it at her.

As the stodgy brown mixture stuck to, and then slunk off, her chest, Mel stood frozen, her mouth open in shock at his unaccustomed retaliation. Then, with a determined look etched upon her face, she dipped her own hand into the giant ceramic bowl, and hurled a ball of cake mix at her partner’s groin.

Angling his arms, Andy, his cock sticking out between globules of clinging brown sugar and raisins, picked up the pint jug of milk.

Reading his intentions, Mel stepped back, ‘No way Andy, I…’

The liquid hit her full in the chest, going right through her top, spattering the floor, work surfaces and leaving droplets of white across Mel’s face and hair, making her gasp with surprise.

‘I think you’d better take that overall off.’ Andy tone was abrupt as he rubbed his wrists together, hooking his thumbs between the ribbon; forcing it loose and wriggling free, ‘Right young lady!’ He ripped the whites from her body, and inhaled a small pale breast between his teeth, murmuring ‘Ummm, I love milk,’ as he lapped at her sticky flesh, ‘but it lacks that distinctive Christmas flavour.’

Gathering up another handful of cake mix, he began to smear it against her chest. Mel groaned as he worked, dropping to her knees to suck off the ingredients that clung to his dick. His whole body stiffened with pleasure as he bent to her chest, nibbling at the mixture that hung there for a few delicious moments, before saying thoughtfully, ‘Not enough spice.’…

****

If you’d like to see what happens next, or fancy dipping into the other stories; Decorations, Santa’s Little Helper, Candy at Christmas, The Little Red Dress or If You Go Down to the Woods…. you can buy Christmas Kink from-

Amazon.com-

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GI2DDQM

Amazon UK-

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Christmas-Kink-Five-Festive-Fantasies-ebook/dp/B00GI2DDQM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1383810527&sr=8-1&keywords=Christmas+kink+five+festive+fantasies

Many thanks for letting me pop by today KD!

Merry Christmas to you all!

Kay xx

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), Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress, 2013), and The Collector (Austin & Macauley, 2012).

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

You can follow Kay on –

Twitter- https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

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

Kay also write contemporary romance under the name Jenny Kane www.jennykane.co.uk

The 2015 ETO A Writer’s History

July 1, 2015Blog, Newsawards, Brit Babes, celebrations, ETO Awards, Kay JaybeeK D Grace

I’d like to begin this post by offering huge, gigantic congratulations to my dear friend and author extraordinaire, Kay Jaybee, who won the ETO 2015 Best Erotic Author Award. In spite of insurmountable obstacles and a way less than pleasant day Kay Jaybee rocked it!

I’m just home from my third ETO show and awards banquet. Kay Jaybee’s much-deserved win of ETO’s Best Erotic Author Award for 2015 has got me reflecting on the past three years of coming together for the awards banquet and the celebration of all things erotic. It was three years ago that ETO added a Best Erotic Author category to its annual awards banquet. Kay Jaybee and I were lucky enough to have been nominated for that first ETO Best Erotic Author Award back in 2013. It was a beginning in so many ways. The Brit Babes had just been conceived. The eight of us were becoming fast friends and steadfast supporters of each other’s efforts to get our stories out to a wider audience, and to remind readers that there are WAY more than fifty shades of erotica.

I remember that first show being such a whirlwind event. It all happened so fast. Raymond and I drove down from Scarborough that Sunday morning after having participated in and thoroughly enjoyed the first ever Smut By the Sea event organized by Brit Babe, Victoria Blisse and her totally amazing husband, Kev. Once in Birmingham, we met Kay Jaybee and Mr. Jaybee in the lounge of the Crown Plaza Hotel with just enough time for a quick drink before we put on our glad rags and made our way to the Champaign reception – me teetering on shiny killer heels that were a danger to myself and everyone around me. (This is a chick who lives in walking shoes and trainers when I’m not barefoot.)

Though the ETO Show had been going on for awhile, this was the first year the award for Best Erotic Author was offered. I remember, Kay Jaybee and I were round-eyed with excitement and over the moon to even be considered, as we headed downstairs to the reception and the banquet room of the Crown Plaza. We cheered for Sh! Women’s Store, who took away the Best Innovative Shop Award. We cheered Xcite Books for Best Erotic Publisher, We cheered for Cara Sutra, who took away the Best Erotic Journalist Award. We cheered for Love Honey and Sex Toys UK and for so many of the lovely folks our writing had brought us in contact with, and then the moment came … And went … It was the middle of the 50SoG craze, first wave, so we were up against some lady named E L James – don’t know if you’re familiar with her ??? She won the award to no one’s surprise. Kay and I looked around to see if we could catch a glimpse of her, but she was nowhere to be found. So, we shrugged, went upstairs to the bar at the Crown Plaza and partied with all our friends – old and new. The way we both figured it, we were winners anyway to have been considered at all, and to have been in such grand company for the evening.
2014’s ETO was a totally different animal. There were three, count ‘em THREE Brit Babes nominated for Best Erotic Author 2014. Lucy Felthouse joined Kay Jaybee and me among the nominees, and we Babes were well-supported by Lexie Bay, Tabitha Rayne and Victoria Blisse, all there to party and celebrate with us. We had a wander around the ETO exhibition hall eating ice cream with flavoured lube, fondling leather floggers and nipple clamps, and admiring outrageous lingerie but mostly just chatting and catching up with all the gossip, and of course working on our ever-expanding plan for world domination.

In 2014 the banquet was moved into the main exhibition hall with more room to
breathe and most importantly, more room to dance. We hopped on a bus at the Crown
Plaza and headed off to the banquet, taking time for a photo op in front of the hotel.

I don’t remember the food. I do remember the conversation was good. I remember cheering on Cara Sutra on to another Best Erotic Journalist Award. I remember cheering on Renee Denyer from Sh! who won the best shop manager award. And then I remember walking onto the stage dazed and in shock when my name was called. I didn’t expect it, which made it all the sweeter. I remember that long after the band stopped playing and we stopped dancing, long after we’d taken the bus back to the Crown Plaza, we sat in the lobby talking writing and dreaming and scheming, me periodically fondling the award just to make sure it was real.

Then 2015 rolled around and the day donned with an ominous portent. Both Kay Jaybee and I were nominated again, and just as Hubby and I were leaving the house for Birmingham, I got a text from Kay saying that she was in the A&E in Worcester with serious leg pain. All through the trip down, we texted back and forth, with her finally on pain killers and on her way to the Crown Plaza, which was closer than home for her, since she and Mr. Jaybee had been having a weekend away for his birthday.

Raymond and I arrived and checked in at our hotel then were off to the exhibition hall where we had a little, but not nearly enough, time with Victoria and Kev Blisse at the Blog Spot booth with Melissa McFarlane. The Blisses were there for ETO, but sadly couldn’t’ stay for the banquet. It’s always a pleasure to see them no matter how brief. Then we were joined by this year’s Brit Babe contingent, Tabitha Rayne and Lexie Bay, who brought along a wonderful surprise. Lily Harlem had been able to join the fun at the last minute.

After meeting up with Ruby Kiddell, watching the lingerie and fetish fashion show, admiring the f@ck machine and talking to a woman who made nipple jewelry among our general explorations, we discovered the free bar, where we ended up drinking wine, talking writing and making more plans for world domination, all the while checking in with Kay via text. Unfortunately, while Kay had arrived at the hotel, she was in no condition to attend the banquet, so we all returned to get ready for the evening saddened that she wouldn’t be there with us. So close, but so far away.

All through the evening, we texted Kay and sent her updates an piccies of what was happening at the banquet. When the meal was over, Dale Bradford, editor of ETO magazine and Lee Schofield, publisher, took the stage to mc the awards. The People Awards, which include Best Erotic Author, are always toward the end of what Lee and Dale have honed and polished to a very tight very pacey event. We all cheered as Sh! won Best Innovative Shop, and we cheered even louder as our wonderful Renee Denyer won Best Shop Manager.

And then it happened, always faster than I’m ready for. It seems I always almost miss it, and have to do a really quick, really subtle instant replay in my mind before I get it. They made the announcement and this year, the winner of the ETO Best Erotic Author Award is the Brit Babes own and totally fabulous Kay Jaybee!

We had already decided if our Kay won, we Brit Babes would collect her award together with loud cheers and cat whistles, which we did, all of us running to the stage, all of us mobbing poor Lee to within an inch of his life, and then our brave Lily Harlem stepped up to the microphone to thank everyone on Kay’s behalf. A quick photo op and we were back to the table, sending photos and texting Kay the great news with trembling fingers.

Sadly, I couldn’t dance this year because the knees are still recovering, but that meant that Raymond and I got the totally pleasurable job of taking Kay’s award and bottle of fizz back to our winner, who met us down in the lobby looking bleary-eyed but happy and leaning very heavily on Mr Jaybee for support.

We had to leave early this morning so Raymond could get back for meetings, texting our good-byes and good wishes to the lovely winner and the rest of the Brit Babes en route on the M40. Since then I’ve been thinking how much it feels like we’ve come full circle in the past three years. We were both winners even when E.L. James won that first year. We were both winners when I won, and we were both winners this year. In fact, we were all winners, celebrating with Kay the accomplishments of all the Brit Babes, and the support and camaraderie we get from each other and from our lovely Street Team. We’re writers, that’s our calling, our passion, and that we can do it and share in the journey with others who do, is definitely a win-win.

Congratulations to all the 2015 ETO Award Winners, and a special round of sloppy hugs and kisses to our own Kay Jaybee, 2015 ETO Best Erotic Writer!

Sexy Just Got Rich Now Available in Print!

April 25, 2015Blog, New Releases, Newsanthology, BDSM, Brit Babes Do Billionaires, Emmy Ellis, erotic romance, erotica, Kay Jaybee, Lexie Bay, Lily Harlem, Lucy Felthouse, print launch, Sexy Just Got Rich, Tabitha Rayne, The Brit Babes, Victoria BlisseK D Grace

If you’re like me, you love your kindle, love your eReader, in fact you’re practically joined at the hip with it. As I get ready to make my yearly visit to my sister in the States, I’m making sure my eReader is well-stocked with luscious reading — including a copy of Sexy Just Got Rich. But I’d be the first to admit, like most people I still LOVE the feel, the smell, the sight of a real book. All us Brit Babes do, and with that in mind, we’re very happy to offer our latest anthology, Sexy Just Got Rich, in print for the real book lover in all of us.

Sexy Just Got Rich Blurb:

Billionaires have it all but that doesn’t mean they don’t have to work hard to get what their hearts desire. In this brand
new anthology of erotic BDSM stories the Brit Babes offer heroes and heroines who aren’t shy about taking what they want. From farmyards to luxury penthouses, wealth is all about sating needs, connecting souls and taking pleasure to new highs. Whether you’re looking for a coffee break read or something longer to curl up in bed with, you’ll find something to suit your needs in Sexy Just Got Rich.

Buy your Print Version of Sexy Just Got Rich Here:

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Get a Copy of Sexy Just Got Rich for your eReader:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Amazon AU
Amazon CA
All Romance eBooks
Barnes & Noble
iBooks UK
iBooks US
Kobo
Smashwords

Here’s a little teaser from my story, Buying the Farm. Enjoy!

Buying the Farm Blurb:

Cassie Fielding is at her wits end trying to save the family farm from bankruptcy after her father’s illness. But when
Cassie returns from university, she finds that, in spite of their financial situation, her father has hired the mysterious, Simon Dennis to help run the place. As Cassie and the new hired hand experience an unprecedented heat wave of lust, Cassie comes to suspects that her father and Simon may be in cahoots with their own plan to save the farm, and the whole scheme depends on her.

Excerpt:

She dreamed of the hired hand that night. In her dreams, she met him in the woods below the barn. He was naked and wild like some animal that belonged there in the shadow of the oaks and hickory trees, and he had taken her without a word, on her hands and knees in the leaf litter, while she forced her bottom up and opened her legs enough for him to see that she was ready, that her need matched his own. He took her, hard and fierce, forcing the breath from her lungs, biting and kneading and growling. And she had growled back. Her nails had scored his ass in an effort to get him still deeper and the sound they’d made when they came together had startled the birds from their roosting places and raised the hackles of the night prowling beasts. And then he had lifted her into his arms, carried her into the cabin and laid her down on his bed. To her total surprise, that’s where she woke. Blinking, and wiping sleep from her eyes, she found herself still dressed, but tucked up nicely in the cabin, in the bed of the new hired hand, who was nowhere be to be found, but his bed and his room had that delicious smell of a virile male at his prime.

*****

Cassie had hurried out the door and made a run for the house, too embarrassed to linger lest the man return. Of course her father was out doing the morning chores. She’d had a quick shower and returned to the ham and eggs breakfast Joanie shoved at her. Joanie was a family friend who had been helping out when she could since Merrill Fielding’s heart attack. ‘Your dad knows you’re here. Simon told him he found you asleep under the oak trees. He figured you’d planned to overnight in the cabin, not realizing it was occupied. He tucked you into his bed and slept in the barn.’

Well that explained a lot, Cassie thought, then she fought back a blush that felt like it would roast her cheeks off. That also meant that the man had known she was there. Christ! Had he known she’d watched him? Known what she was doing? ‘Simon?’ she asked, shoveling in her breakfast with her head down so Joanie couldn’t see the blush.

‘Simon Dennis. That’s his name.’ Joanie scrubbed at the window above the sink as though it had offended her somehow. ‘From Chicago, I hear. Had some high finance job there. Don’t know why he gave it up to play farmer, but from what I hear,’ she turned back to Cassie to impart the latest, ‘he definitely doesn’t need the money.’ She inspected her reflection in the glass.

‘Nice that someone can afford to play farmer,’ Cassie growled.

‘Apparently he told your father he’d work for room and board. Course your father’d never allow that. He insisted on paying. Still, I think the two of them are up to something.’ Joanie finished the window, then grabbed up Cassie’s empty plate and refill her iced tea glass in one exquisite example of the multi-tasking the woman was so good at. ‘He’s a looker, I’ll say that for him, and polite. I don’t think he’s ever done farm work before. Had some serious blisters his first week or so, but Merrill says he’s a fast learner and seems to have quite a good understanding of a working farm in spite of being a city boy.’

Suddenly Cassie’s insides turned to ice. What if he was thinking of buying Fielding Farm? Christ, farms all over the Midwest were being bought up by big corporations. The independent farmer was going the way of the Dodo bird. Well if he was thinking about buying them out, she’d have a thing or two to say about that. It was her farm, her home. And she wasn’t about to deed it over to some bored moneybags to whom it was just another business deal.

Joanie had left her with instructions on reheating the chicken potpie that she’d put in the refrigerator and Cassie was just about to head into the garden when the kitchen door blew open and her father practically dragged her from the chair into a bear hug. ‘Cassie-girl! You snuck in on me last night. What a great surprise to wake up and find my girl back home! I missed you darlin’’ He hugged her again.

She noticed immediately he felt much stronger than he had before. ‘I missed you too, Daddy.’ He looked better too, she thought. Hopefully he was well on the mend, but all the worrying about paying the bills certainly couldn’t be helping much.

She smiled and nodded out the window to the bedraggled veg patch. ‘I noticed you’ve got a bumper crop of weeds this year. I was just about to head out and see if I could harvest some of them for you.’

Just then Simon Dennis stepped through the door, and damn if he didn’t look even better in sunlight than he did in moonlight. He was dressed in a well-sweated tee shirt and faded jeans, which he filled out nicely, and his smile was positively edible.

‘Not just yet, Cassie.’ Her dad nodded Simon in. ‘I suspect Joanie’s already told you all about Simon here. Knowing her, she probably knows more about him than he knows about himself, but this is the man in the flesh, who I understand was kind enough to give you his bed last night.’ If her blush mirrored Simon’s then her father surely had to suspect that it wasn’t as straight forward as that.

Simon’s eyes were dark green, she noticed, and his hair was almost, but not quite black. There was a smattering of freckles across his nose from hours spent in the intense sun, though from the looks of the rest of him, his complexion was just that shade of olive that tanned deliciously rather than burned.

Simon offered her a well-calloused hand. The firmness of his grip made her think of how good it must have felt wrapped around his cock last night, which in turn made her wonder how the hell she’d ended up in his bed. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ she croaked, trying not to blush, trying not to think about places on her own body where his hand would feel good. Christ! She SO didn’t need to think about that with her dad standing right there between them.

Her father shifted nervously from foot to foot, and she suddenly realized that maybe her father did know, maybe her father was about to fire Simon. Oh God, she hoped not, because it was all her fault, staying to watch the man instead of leaving him to his private moment. But then again, they couldn’t afford Simon anyway, could they? Worse yet, what if her father had decided to sell out to Simon? ‘Cassie.’ Her father’s voice got her attention. ‘Sit down, sweetie. And Simon,’ he nodded to the other side of the kitchen table, then he sat down nervously at the head of the table as though he were afraid the chair might bite him in the ass.

‘Daddy? What’s going on?’ Her voice sounded small as her mind raced at all the possibilities – most of them not good news.

Her father squirmed in his chair and tugged at the collar of his shirt. ‘Well, Cassie, I know how worried you’ve been about the financial situation at Fielding Farm, and hell, I’m an old man. I could live wherever as long as there was a roof over my head, but this is your home, your inheritance and I know that it matters to you that it’s been in the family for so long. So I’ve been racking my brain and racking my brain, and then I met Simon.’ He offered the man a quick jerk of a smile, then turned his nervous attention back to Cassie and cleared his throat. ‘Well, as I said, I’m sure Joanie has told you that our Simon here is a financial wizard.’ Simon didn’t smile at the compliment. If anything he seemed unhappy about it. ‘And we … Simon and I … put our heads together and came up with a plan guaranteed to save the farm.’

‘Really?’ Cassie scooted forward in her chair, giving both man a quick glance. ‘What exactly did you have in mind?’ Her gaze settled on Simon, who seemed icy calm and the expression on his face, the sudden squaring of his shoulders made him look like he belonged in a conference room in front of a board of directors, in spite of his jeans and t-shirt.

First he glanced at her father and then turned his lovely green eyes on her. ‘A deal,’ he said. She could smell that same deep earth and ozone scent beneath the scent of a grassy field. It was the same scent she’d smelled in the cabin, in his bed.

‘A deal?’

Her father cleared his throat and tugged at his shirt again.

‘What sort of deal?’

As Simon Dennis leaned over the table, the farmhand was completely transformed into the CEO. ‘It’s a pretty simple deal really, Cassie. You marry me and save Fielding Farm.’

The air in the room suddenly felt thick and congealed. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the roar of blood in her ears. Both men held her gaze while she made several fish gasps.

It was a damn good thing she was sitting, or she was sure her knees would have given beneath her. But she took her time answering him, not because she was playing the game. Hell, she didn’t even know there was a game until this minute. No, she took her time answering him because she had to wait until she could be sure she could breathe without suffocating, be sure she could speak without her voice trembling. ‘Is this an ultimatum?’ She managed.

‘No. It’s just the best way to protect your interests and save the farm,’ he replied.

God the man was smooth. She gulped tea and found her voice again. ‘OK, I’m just mercenary enough to do that, but what’s in it for you? This isn’t Chicago. Under the best of circumstances Fielding Farm isn’t worth even one of your lower end business deals. And this isn’t even close to the best of circumstances.’

His jaw tightened until she was afraid he’d break teeth, and his lips thinned to a tight line. The muscles along his neck twitched. ‘I like it here.’

Before either of them could say anything else, her father cleared his throat with a sound like someone starting a lawn mower then shoved back his chair. ‘I’m going to let the two of you have space to talk, and then, Cassie, if you need to yell and scream at me, I’ll be down in my workshop.’

She didn’t try to stop him as he left. Her father, she knew she could handle. He was stubborn, but he was also a reasonable man. In truth, she really was mercenary enough to take Simon up on his offer, but she leaned over the table, once again calm, and said. ‘It’s pretty obvious what’s in this for me, Simon, but I need to know what’s in it for you? I need to know that you’ve not got ulterior motives. Hell, you don’t even know me.’

‘As I said, I like it here. You have what I want, what I’ve always wanted. And,’ a blush worked its way up his tanned throat onto his cheeks. ‘I need a wife.’

She blinked. ‘You need a wife. Well, I’m sure a man like you can have your pick of nice trophy wives and debutants. Why me?’

‘My father’s already got several willing trophy wives and debutants picked out for me, and I don’t want any of them.’

‘So you’re marrying me to get your father off your ass.’

‘I’m marrying you so I can stay on your farm.’ He shrugged and offered her half a smile. ‘And to get my father off my ass.’

She studied him over the table. ‘What else do I need to know?’

He took a deep breath. ‘I’m the oldest and only son. My father wants me to take over the reins of Dennis Consolidated. I could do it, but I hate it, and frankly I’m not the best person for the job. I marry you, become a farmer. Dennis Consolidated gets the best possible CEO to lead them into the future, and dad gets over it. Happy ending.’

‘You’re really willing to marry someone you don’t even know to achieve that end?’

‘Oh I’m willing,’ he said, offering her a smile that was flat out scary. ‘Besides. I know you better than you think. Your father adores you, and I’ve been paying enough attention to know that he has good reason.’

She reached for her tea glass and finished it in one long gulp,’ spilling a good bit of it down the front of her shirt, and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘And will that be a marriage in name only or will it be a real marriage.’

He laughed out loud and his green eyes sparked bright emerald. ‘After last night, I hardly think the two of us could keep it platonic, Cassie.’

‘Just making sure.’ The butterflies danced low in her belly, and her nipples offered him a full salute in her slightly damp shirt. ‘And what about a pre-nup?’

‘I don’t need a pre-nup. Hell you can have whatever you want of mine. I don’t give a damn.’

This time it was her turn to laugh. ‘I was talking about me. I want a guarantee that if it doesn’t work out, if we’re not compatible, you won’t try to take Fielding Farm away from me.’

The look on his face was something between stunned and hurt, neither of which she really expected. For a long moment he said nothing, then, his gaze darkened, he reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ‘You have a lawyer draw it up and I’ll sign it. But I promise you, Cassie, I would never take Fielding Farm from you and your father.’

Strangely, she believed him. For a long moment, they sat in the silence of the kitchen, her heart hammering as though it would jump from her chest. He showed no signs of impatience, no signs of stress. He only sat holding her in his dark green gaze.

At last she found her voice. ‘All right. I’ll marry you. But if we’re gonna do it, we need to do it now and get it over with. I don’t have time for all the hoopla and planning for pulling off some swank wedding during the busy season.’

Simon offered her a quirk of a smile. ‘Your father told me you were a hopeless romantic.’

Interview with a Pet

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Cake Mix

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I’d like to begin this post by offering huge, gigantic congratulations to my dear friend and author extraordinaire, Kay Jaybee, who won the ETO 2015 Best Erotic Author Award. In spite of insurmountable obstacles and a way less than pleasant day Kay Jaybee rocked it!

Congratulations to all the 2015 ETO Award Winners, and a special round of sloppy hugs and kisses to our own Kay Jaybee, 2015 ETO Best Erotic Writer!

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Buy your Print Version of Sexy Just Got Rich Here:

Get a Copy of Sexy Just Got Rich for your eReader:

Here’s a little teaser from my story, Buying the Farm. Enjoy!

Excerpt:

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