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Toys for Boys Up for Pre-order

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Exciting news for me! My M/M novella, Toys for Boys, which was originally a part of the Brit Boys with Toys Box Set is now available for pre-order as a juicy stand-alone. Release date is Valentine’s Day. Better than chocolate. Here’s a little taster.

Toys for Boys Blurb:

Alpha nerd Will Charles teams up with Caridoc ‘Doc’ Jones in a coast to coast walk across England reviewing outdoor gift suggestions for the Christmas edition of Toys for Boys—an online magazine dedicated to the latest gadgets to tickle a man’s fancy. Will is recording their adventures with the latest smart phone technology. Doc is reviewing the latest outdoor gear. The two quickly discover the great outdoors provides even better toys for boys, toys best shared al fresco, toys that, in spite of Will’s great camera work, will never be reviewed in Toys for Boys.

Note: Toys for Boys has been previously published as part of the Brit Boys: With Toys boxed set.

Toys for Boys — No Room in the Inn — Excerpt:

“I really am sorry, lads,” the proprietress at the Keld Lodge said, “but I’ve only a tiny single room available which, due to health and safety, I can’t rent as a double.”

“God, I really don’t want to spend another night in that leaky tent,” the dark-haired bloke was barely understandable between chattering teeth. “There must be something else close by.”

“Not within easy walking distance,” the proprietress said. “I can let you put up the tent around the back,” she offered. “You can even use the showers and the drying room for your wet gear. Of course stay inside by the fire as long as you like.”

The weather had been abysmal when I arrived the night before on a short writing and walking retreat. It was worse today, so I’d spent my time ensconced in the pub’s restaurant at a table by the window looking out onto the misty Yorkshire Dales. It was mid afternoon when the two drenched, bedraggled lads slogged through the door, bringing with them a gust of icy, wet wind. I had just come to the bar to order a pot of tea and, as I stood quietly in the queue behind them, I noticed the blond casting worried glances at his shivering companion.

“Walking the Coast to Coast?” I asked.

“We are,” the dark-haired bloke replied. “Though I’m pretty sure we swam most of it today.”

“You taking the high level route through the mining ruins tomorrow?” I asked.

They both nodded. “Supposed to be sunny,” the blond replied. “Three days of bad weather and last night the tent sprung a leak. We were hoping for a hot meal and a real bed tonight.”

“I’m truly sorry, lads,” the proprietress said. “I wish I could help.”

I’m not sure what inspired me to make the offer, perhaps memories of the times I’d walked cold and wet, but more than likely it was simply because I’m a hopeless romantic and I recognised that the two men were more than just mates out for an adventure.

“Look, why don’t you take my room for the night? I’m on my own and I have a nice double until the end of the week. I can take the single, and then we can switch back tomorrow. Wouldn’t that work?” I asked the proprietress.

“I don’t see why not,” came the reply. “I’ll sort it with housekeeping, and you can work out the details among yourselves.”

“It has a bath and lots of hot water,” I said, recalling what a pleasure an actual bathtub was after a long, cold walk.

“Oh God, you’re a saint,” the dark-haired one said, offering me a blinding smile between chattering teeth.

Still thanking me profusely, they introduced themselves as Will Charles—the dark-haired lad with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, and Doc Jones—the blond with a lovely Welsh lilt in his rich, baritone voice. They helped me switch my meagre belongings to the smaller room. Then I returned to my table and my tea. I couldn’t help wondering what their story was and just what they might get up to in that deep tub and on that nice bouncy bed. Quite the coincidence that I was here because I had agreed to write a story for the Brit Boys: With Toys anthology and, with the deadline bearing down on me, I was still drawing a blank, but with Doc and Will’s arrival, I suddenly felt inspired.

 Pre-Order Toys for Boys Here:

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Smut Restrained in the Wild or in the Dungeon

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I’ve got multiple reasons for being excited about participating in the Smut Restrained Blog Hop today. First off, I adore Victoria and Kev Blisse, and I’m always happy to participate in an event they sponsor. Second, my very naughty, very al fresco m/m novella, Toys for Boys, which was first published in the Brit Boys with Toys Box Set, is now available for pre-order, and I’m elated to be able to share with you a little restraint al fresco. And third, the fantastic cover for Toys for Boys is the work of the very talented Kev Blisse.

 

 

What’s Smut Restrained all about? 

If you’re in the Manchester area on the 28th, join The lovely Smut Folks on Saturday 28th January from 1pm -5pm at Miss T’s Dungeon in Stockport.

There will be demonstrations with rope and chains, sexy readings and lots of time to get hands on with the restraints and toys of your choice – bring your own gear or borrow some once you arrive, it’s up to you.
There’s be an experienced rigger on hand to give advice and answers your rope questions. There’ll also be other experienced doms and subs eager to answer any kinky questions you have.

The world famous erotic tombola will also be a highlight of the day with some spectacular prizes to be won from some truly fabulous companies.  Definitely worth having a go at just £1 for 3 tickets.

There will be lots of time to play in any way you like using all the facilities of Miss T’s well kitted out dungeon as well as time to socialise too.

 

Pick up your tickets here:

https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/smut-restrained-tickets-28725102555

Tickets cost £5.80 with fee in advance or £10 on the door but please let me know if you’re planning to turn up on the day – I don’t want to have to turn anyone away if we get full!

 

Join the facebook event here:

https://www.facebook.com/events/311997799169132/

 

 

Toys for Boys Blurb:

Alpha nerd Will Charles teams up with Caridoc ‘Doc’ Jones in a coast to coast walk across England reviewing outdoor gift suggestions for the Christmas edition of Toys for Boys—an online magazine dedicated to the latest gadgets to tickle a man’s fancy. Will is recording their adventures with the latest smart phone technology. Doc is reviewing the latest outdoor gear. The two quickly discover the great outdoors provides even better toys for boys, toys best shared al fresco, toys that, in spite of Will’s great camera work, will never be reviewed in Toys for Boys.

 

Warning: Adult Content: 

Toys For Boys — Low Tech & High Tech Goes Wild – Excerpt:

 

Toys For BoysThe second day they walked in sunshine. It was another fourteen and a half mile trek, in addition to what they’d not been able to finish the day before. Will seemed no worse for wear. Doc had to admit he was beginning to enjoy the man’s company—not just because of his nice arse or their little exchange this morning, but because he was a good walker. Like Doc, he was comfortable with his own silence, silence which was companionable in the long, indulgent stretches of it they shared on the trail. The man’s pace was good, he never lagged and he never complained. He used his toy effectively and way more subtly than most tourists with cell phones—not counting this morning’s little indiscretion, that is. They’d taken to using the personal pronoun for the smart phone, myBrain, urBrain, even occasionally ourBrain.

At the top of Loft Beck the two looked out across Fleetwith to the ruined tramway track, which led down to Honister Slate mine. He watched Will shooting a video of Buttermere and Crummock Water stretched out in the lazy autumn sun, reflecting the sapphire Lakeland sky like giant mirrors. “The panoramic beauty is quintessential Lakeland,” Will spoke into the device in a low, conversational voice, but made no attempt to hide his excitement. He was saying something about Moses Trod and the old whisky smuggling route.

It pleased Doc way out of proportion that the man had clearly done his homework concerning the places they walked. As Doc joined him near the ruined barbed wire fence, Will turned the camera on him and said something about Doc’s abilities in the outdoors that he couldn’t quite catch, but the smile the bloke offered suggested it was either complimentary or playful. Doc didn’t mind either; in fact, he kind of liked having the device turned on him, being the centre of Will’s attention—as long as he wasn’t naked with his cock in his hand.

They stopped for an indulgent ice cream at the slate mine’s visitor centre before they made the trek down Honister Pass, along the Derwent River and on into the Rosthwaite area, where they set up camp along the river behind a willow thicket that gave them some privacy. It was Doc’s favourite place to camp along the Derwent, but he hadn’t chosen it without ulterior motives, and surely Will had to suspect something when they set up two tents, but used one just for stashing the gear.

Once camp was set up, they shared a pleasant cup of tea, discussing the events of the day. They’d made up the lost mileage and arrived in record time. With the map spread between them and urBrain in hand they spent a pleasant half an hour going over tomorrow’s

dramatic walk to Patterdale, anticipating good weather. When Will went off to the river to get water for dinner and washing up, Doc made his move. He pulled out his Vitronox and cut a slender willow branch about the size and flexibility of a good riding crop.

By the time Will returned with water, he was paring the last of the twigs and leaves, except for the two at the very tip. He had plans for those. Will paused only briefly to take in the situation, then set down the water and came to stand in front of him. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, I think you know exactly what’s going on, Nerd Boy.” He folded his knife and stuck it back in his pocket, then stood and gave the willow switch a good brisk snap against his hand. “I told you this morning it wasn’t over.”

“Are you serious?” Will eyed the switch, then shot Doc an uncertain glance. “You can’t be serious.”

“Couldn’t be more so.” Before the bloke could protest further, Doc caught both his wrists up in a length of lightweight rope he carried with him for emergencies. With the switch in one hand and the length of rope in the other, he led Will—who was either too surprised, or too intrigued to protest—to a young oak and secured his arms so that he was leaning forward embracing the trunk, arse nicely presented.

“You’re not seriously going to…” Will’s voice trailed off into a breathless gasp as Doc gave him a proper pat-down until he found the urBrain in the front pocket, close to a growing stiffy. Oh, this was going to be good.

“Now, let’s see if I’ve been paying attention to your little demos on how to work this thing. Ah yes, here we go. Camera on.” Will had given him the pass code with the idea that he could give a better review if he could see how easy the phone was for a non-techie person to operate. “I’d give this little baby an A-plus for being user friendly,” Doc said. “And it’s important to have a user friendly camera in a place where the views are so spectacular. Now then,” he focussed the urBrain on his handiwork, “you won’t be needing these.” With one hand, he gave the thin walking shorts a hard yank down over Will’s hips and was treated to a gasp of surprise that resulted in a clench and release of the well-muscled arse.

“You fucker,” Will half hissed, half chuckled as Doc manoeuvred the shorts off over the man’s walking boots and kneed his legs apart to offer the best view and easy access, all the while videoing with the other hand, switch gripped under his arm.

“Not yet, I’m not, but I’m hoping. First,” he brought the tip of the switch in between Will’s legs so that the two remaining leaves tickled and stroked his balls. The man jerked, sucked air between his teeth, and his cock surged. “First, we have some unfinished business.” Then he brought the switch up with a sharp snap against those exposed engorged balls.

“Bloody hell!” came the response. Will’s whole body jerked and tensed, but especially his expanding cock.

Doc shoved the camera in his pocket, and moved in. He grabbed the bloke by the hair, pulling his head up to give him a thorough but brutal tongue kiss, to which Will fucking Charles responded by moaning into his mouth, his tongue making for a right nice welcome. Then he gave a harsh grunt and flinched at the sharp thwack of the switch across his bare left buttock, his mouth round with surprise, his pupils dilated with something else. “The more you talk, the more welts your arse gets, and possibly your balls too. So what’s it gonna be, William? Keep quiet and take your punishment so we can get to the good parts?” He gave the man’s cock a hard squeeze. “Or get extra stripes and go to bed frustrated? Besides,” he added, caressing the very fine balls, “I can tell you’re not opposed to a little pain. Now shut up and hold still. I’m anxious to test urBrain.”

Will nodded his agreement and glanced over his shoulder to watch.

Doc pulled out the phone and began to record as the next stripe came down nice and red and raised against the other pristine arse-cheek. “I’m not the photographer you are, my lad, but this is going to be a work of art, if I do say so myself. Your little toy is making my little toy a whole lot more fun to play with. Who knew high tech and low tech could be so… compatible?” He laid three more welts in fast succession across the tense arse, recording its grip and release, grip and release around the mouth-watering O displayed so invitingly at the centre.

“The device has a great microphone, too.” He leaned in again and bit Will’s neck. “All the better to hear you with,” he said, taking in the enticing mish-mash of sounds coming from deep in the man’s thick chest, any one of which might be pain or pleasure. He was surprised to hear that his own soundtrack, laid down next to Will’s, was equally ambiguous and, while he wasn’t experiencing any real pain, there was a good deal of… strain against the fly of his walking shorts, and his balls felt as heavy as river rock.

He shoved the switch back under his arm and went to work on his fly, zooming in for a close-up of Will’s clenching anus pillowed between buttocks latticed with nice red welts. “William, William, William, it’s a good thing you’re walking tomorrow rather than sitting on your wounded bum.”

In response, Will raised up on his toes and lifted his hips, presenting himself like a mare in heat and, fuck, if Doc didn’t feel like a stud ready for service and needing to unload. He gave the displayed balls two light snaps with the switch and then dropped it onto the ground.

The Psychology of Dreams 101 is Now Available fore Pre-order

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I’m very excited to announce that The Psychology of Dreams 101, which began its life as a serial,  is now available The Psychology of Dreams 101for pre-order as a novella in eBook format. You can get your copy from any of your favourite book sellers. Be warned up front though, this novella is a dark romp through sizzling sexy dreams that can very easily become nightmares. If you like a few chills with your sizzle, then The Psychology of Dreams 101 may be just the stuffer for you eReader stocking.

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Blurb:

 

What if there was punishment when you didn’t dream the right dreams? That’s the dilemma Leah Kent, and her professor, Al Foster must face—dream right, or take the punishment. The Psychology of Dreams 101 is a wander into the sexy and dark unconscious as Leah takes a Psychology of Dreams adult education class, only to discover that the required dream journal leads to some seriously kinky night journeys. But not all dreams are pleasant ones, and some have far-reaching repercussions in the waking world.

 

The Psychology of Dreams 101 Excerpt:

 

You look beautiful when you dream.

That was the first sentence; that was how it all started.

Leah thought it might be some sort of lucid dreaming when she saw the words scrawled across the page of her open journal on the nightstand. She’d had every intention of asking her instructor about it, but then she couldn’t really tell him the dream that had brought it on, could she? It sounded like the sort of thing the unconscious of a pathetically shy introvert would write to herself from the dream world because she had no one in the waking world to say it to her and, while that might be true—the pathetic introvert part, she didn’t want to make it more obvious to her instructor than it probably already was—especially when she had half a crush on him.

Besides, it also sounded like the sort of thing a sex-crazed slut might write to herself when her vibe batteries ran down. That made her sound even more pathetic—the vibe and the batteries part, not the slut part.

She had just started a course on the psychology of dreams. She tried to take advantage of adult education classes whenever possible. It got her out of the house and forced her to interact with other people—real flesh and blood people. With her job, online shopping, online banking, direct debit, grocery delivery, she never had to leave the house really, and that suited her just fine, but she knew it shouldn’t. She knew it wasn’t healthy. Sometimes going to the classes was more of an ordeal than a pleasure, but that was not the case for the psychology of dreams class.

She had to admit, she’d taken that course because she’d overheard several women giggling and talking about how hot the instructor was and how their dreams had become very sexy since they’d started his class. A part of the class work was to keep a dream journal. The women had been sitting at the table next to her in the coffee shop poring over their journals together and laughing about how they thought Al—Al Foster was the instructor—would respond when he read their dreams. She’d been taking a photography course then, and it had been one of the few times Leah had actually forced herself to initiate conversation, asking the women about the class. They were only too happy to share, and soon she was laughing and blushing and joking right along with them as they told her all about the psychology of dreams course and how it had truly stimulated their dream life. The next term, she signed right up.

A dream journal—that had sounded simple enough when Al—he’d insisted they all call him Al—had explained what it was. All she had to do was write down her dreams every morning when she woke up. But by the time she sat down at the breakfast table with her bowl of cereal and her coffee, dream journal and pen at the ready, she could remember nothing but bits of broken images—nothing dramatic, nothing with hidden psychological meaning—certainly nothing sexy.

After a week of drawing blanks from the dream world, Al had helpfully suggested that she keep the journal open by her bed, and that she set an alarm for every two hours. When the alarm went off, she was then to write just a few key words of what she remembered, words that would jog her memory in the morning.

The first time the alarm went off, she woke disoriented and confused. By the time she remembered why she’d set the alarm, she also remembered she’d forgotten to set the trash out for pick-up. She remembered that she needed to order some more vitamins online. She remembered that she needed to put the clothes in the dryer, but what she didn’t remember was her dreams.

The second alarm, she must have unconsciously shut off before she got fully awake, but on the third, she managed a little dream snippet about chasing a big dog through the local McDonalds, a dog who had shamelessly stolen her Big Mac right out of her hand. She hated Big Macs, and big dogs made her nervous. Well, that was at least something to analyze, wasn’t it? Though Freud had insisted that sometimes a cigar was just a cigar, surely that didn’t hold true for Big Macs, which she didn’t like, and big dogs, which she didn’t trust. Al would be pleased.

The second night there was a dream about a leather jacket with a huge snake for a collar, a snake that talked—kind of like a parrot. There was a dream in which she’d gone to the supermarket and ended up in a maze, unable to find her way out. There was a dream of planting begonias in front of the convenience store around the corner. For the rest of the week, she was excited to see that the setting of the alarms was working. Her key words helped her to remember details, and the rest was easy.

 Pre-Order The Psychology of Dreams 101 Here:

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Celebrating The Collared Collection: Interview with a Pet

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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.

Sexy Just Got Rich Now Available for Pre-Order!

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BBBillionaires2
Billionaires are always a hot topic in romance, and never more so than now with 50SoG film about to be released. But not all billionaires are created equal, and they don’t all look like you’d expect. When the Brit Babes decided to do Billionaires, they decided it was time to look at billionaires in different shades than grey.

And now, the Brit Babes’ new anthology, Sexy Just Got Rich, is available for pre-order! 90,000 very sexy, very naughty, very rich words about billionaires as you’ve never seen them before. Go an, indulge in the decadence! Enjoy a bevy of billionaires with a Brit Babes slant.

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.

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.

Buying the Farm Excerpt:

When Simon came to her, she was standing with her back to the open sliding door, arms braced against the stalls they sexyjustgotrich cover
had renovated. He wanted to breed horses – not on a grand scale, but mostly as an experiment in the beginning, a part of their plan to diversify. The planning was still in the early stages, but it was filled, like most of their plans for Fielding Farm, with exciting possibilities.           

‘I’m sorry, Cassie.’ For a long time he stood silhouetted in the door, his shadow stretching out before him, merging with the gloom of the barn. Then he moved to stand behind her, slipping his arms carefully around her waist, as though he feared she might turn on him. In truth, she wasn’t sure his fears weren’t justified.

At last, she relaxed and leaned her head back against his shoulders, feeling his sigh of relief, warm and humid on the soft flesh of her neck. ‘Is any of what he said true?’

‘Some of it, yes. I wanted to buy Fielding Farm. I made your father a very generous offer, one I didn’t think he could refuse.’

‘But he did.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper.

‘Well, not exactly.’ He kissed her ear and tightened his hold just slightly, not sure what her response would be. ‘He told me he wouldn’t consider any offer until I’d worked as his hired hand for six months.’

Cassie laughed in spite of herself. ‘And then he threw in the farmer’s daughter to sweeten the deal?’

He nuzzled her neck and kissed her just below her ear, sending shivers down her spine, and she pressed back against him. ‘I think he knew all along what would happen. I think he knew that when I got to know the farmer’s daughter, I’d want it all, lock stock and barrel, and buying the farm was gonna cost me way more than I expected to pay.’ One hand moved up to cup her breast and for a long second, he seemed to have lost himself in the soft flesh of her nape and along the top of her shoulder. ‘But Christ,’ he breathed against her throat, ‘it’s worth the price.’

She huffed out a laugh, then sucked a tight breath as he gave her nipple a hard role with his thumb, and it engorged still further. ‘Blisters, bruises, broken nails, aches pains, mud and muck, shoveling shit.’ She grunted as his other hand migrated up under her dress to worry its way in between her thighs. ‘Have I forgotten anything?’

‘How about long hard days of lusting after the farmer’s daughter.’ He moaned. ‘God it’s hard to ride a tractor with a full sac and a hard-on that’s about to burst my fly. You have no idea how hard it is to keep from stopping the tractor and getting some relief. But I hold it, Cass. I hold it all because I know I get to come home and fuck the farmer’s daughter, the hired hand’s wife, at the end of the day. I know that I get to give it all to you, and you’ll take it – all of it, happily.’ He caught his breath in a tight little gasp, as his fingers parted her labia. ‘And then here you are all wet and swollen and angry, and not wearing any underwear. Christ, Cassie! What you do to me.’

She only heard about half of what he said, breathing as hard as she was, wanting as badly as she did.

‘You’re like a mare in heat, you know that?’ He said, raking her swollen clit with his thumb and pushing her legs apart with his knee. ‘Every time I’m around you, my cock takes charge, and I know you’re deep and slick and ready for me.’ He hissed between his teeth as she gave the two fingers he’d maneuvered to thrust up inside her a grip and squeeze. ‘I spend my time with my cock at half mast living for the next time I can mount my mare and empty my load.’

With a slight of hand, she hadn’t seen coming, he grabbed both of her wrists in one big fist and bound them efficiently with a soft lead-rope that hung next to the stall. Then he tied the rope to the rail. Half panicked, and more than totally aroused, she strained to look over her shoulder. ‘Simon? What are you doing?’

He bit her neck and she yelped and if it were possible became even more aware of her heavy fullness.

‘Sometimes a mare’s a bit too flighty to stand still while her stud mounts her.’ She heard the zip of his fly and then he shoved her dress up over her hips, exposing her ass to the cool air of the barn. As he fingered her open from behind, he spoke in a breathless rush. ‘Oh she wants him. She needs him so bad, but she needs a little gentle persuasion to sweeten her, to calm her just enough for her stud to service her well.’ And then he pushed into her deep and hard, forcing her up onto her tiptoes, forcing her cheek and shoulder up tight against the fresh wood of the stall, thrusting with as much rage and anger and lust as she felt. He nipped her neck again and when he spoke between thrusts, his voice was little more than a harsh whisper. ‘I may be an asshole. That may well run in the Dennis family, but I’m your asshole, Cassie, and I plan to service you well and often.’

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Sexy Just Got Rich is Available for Pre-order from:

eBook:
Coming 10th February

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