jenny hendrix fucked by voodoo

Wonderfully, Amazingly, Fantastically, Lovely…

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May 24  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Sometimes I have to pinch myself. There are genuinely days when I can’t believe that I have this amazing life. Somehow I have gone from being an archaeologist, to medieval historian, to an erotica writer, and I’m still not entirely sure how it happened! One minute I was writing about crime rates in thirteenth century Leicestershire, the next I was describing how a dominant woman was getting her rocks off over a man tied to an armchair!

If you are a regular reader to this blog you will notice a certain over-use of words such as ‘wonderful’, ‘amazing’ , ‘fantastic’ and ’lovely’. This is not due to a lack in my vocabulary, but because life is good, and somehow those are the words that say it all.


Just over ten years into this erotica writing lark, and I can boast many a naughty publication, from my ultra naughty confessions style anthology The Collector (Austin & Macauley), through e-book collections such as, Quick Kink One and Yes Ma’am (Xcite e-books), a healthy handful of shared anthology publications, mostly with the wonderful (see- there I go!), Xcite books (inc. Sex at Work, Boy Fun and Ultimate Sins), and Cleis Press (inc. Gotta Have It, Best of the Best Women’s Erotica 2 and Sweet Love). And then of course, there are the novels…

Yes Ma'am 2015

So here I am, over a decade into my writing career, wondering what is going to come along next.

Many of you will know that Kay is not my only pen-name- I also write contemporary romance and children’s picture book as Jenny Kane. For the past 18 months, Jenny has taken over from Kay as my main persona, as her novels have been doing amazingly well- but it won’t be long before I’ll have time to think ‘Kay’ again…so the question is…what do I kink up next????

At the moment, I simply have NO idea. Don’t however, mistake this for thinking I am devoid of ideas-far from it. I just don’t know what to do first!!

question marks

One thing is for sure however – my new piece of work, like every piece of erotica I have written before- will be penned within one of my ever growing pile of notebooks with my faithful black biro. This will happen while I am sat in the far corner of my favourite coffee shop.

I’ve tried to drag myself into the twenty first century, and write directly into my laptop, but the best I can do is to type up the initial draft (a process which often involves much cursing as I fail to decipher my spider like handwriting). This is the time I do most of my editing, as I transfer my words of imaginative (hopefully) smut (definitely).

Collector- original notebook

I can’t even edit on the computer! So once my words are all neatly typed up, I print off tale after tale, scribble all over them with my red pen, before laboriously typing back in the changes and repeating the process again and again, right up until the point when I totally hate what I’m reading- that’s when I know it’s finally complete!!

I’ve been rambling on for long enough, so I’ll leave you now- maybe to go and read a wonderfully, amazingly, fantastically lovely book!

Happy reading,

Kay xxxx

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The Voyeur: Romance, Thriller, Psychological Mystery, or a BDSM romp?

May 16  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Is it a romance, a thriller, a psychological mystery, a BDSM romp…or could it be all of the above?

The Voyeur

Voyeur- new cover 2013


Wealthy business man and committed voyeur, Mark Parker, has a list of thirteen fantasies he is in the process of making a reality. Travelling between his London flat, his plush Oxfordshire mansion, and Discreet, his favourite S&M club; Mark is helped to realise his imaginatively dark erotic desires by two loyal members of his staff. His Personal Assistant, Anya Grant, and his Housekeeper Clara Hooper.

Upon his willing slave’s bare backs, 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 why is Mark getting mixed up with Anya’s previous employers at the Bridge’s Gentleman’s Club- a place Anya was all too delighted to escape from?

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




Anya had re-scanned all the emails that had flown across the invisible airwaves of the Atlantic between herself and Candice over the past few weeks. Having retreated to the bathroom to redo her lipstick and add a second layer of concealer to the bags under her eyes, Anya felt was as ready as she’d ever be to face the confident, ultra-efficient American PA over the video link.

Having checked the webcam was working properly, and that she was seated comfortably for the forthcoming exchange of information, Anya grabbed a final glance at the notes she’d made, and turned the conference call facility onto standby.

She was just tapping in the password she required to be patched through to the States when the office door opened and Mark and Clara walked in. Anya’s stomach twisted into a knot of lust as she regarded Clara in a skin-hugging Lycra catsuit, all scarlet and black; a combination which showed her figure off to perfection.

There was no point in protesting that she was about to take an important call; Mark already knew that. Why else would he have bought Clara in, dressed so provocatively, at that exact moment? Her boss was a game player extraordinaire, and he knew precisely how to press her buttons, and freak her out at the same time. Anya had known Fantasy 6 would have to be replayed – but she hadn’t expected it now; so soon after Fantasy 2.

So, Mark isn’t going to rerun his erotic fancies in order after all.

Mark said nothing as he gestured for Anya to rise while he pulled her chair from her desk. Clara, without prompting, crawled under the desk, and crouching uncomfortably, waited for Mark to speak.

Even as her boss pointedly announced the obvious imminent replay of Fantasy 6, Anya was ahead of him, vividly remembering what had happened last time she had been forced to carry out a telephone call with Clara’s head between her legs. This time it seemed she was going to have to endure all the gorgeous delights to come while communing with an audience who could not only hear her voice, but see her as well; and who must never know what was going on below the desk.

‘Roll up your skirt, take off your thong, and sit down. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the importance of opening your legs as wide as possible.’ Anya kicked off her shoes and obliged. ‘Quickly, girl, it’s time for your meeting to begin.’

As she sat, pulling in her chair as close to the desk as it would go without squashing Clara, Anya tried to steady her nerves. The video line rang, and Anya plastered a convincingly serene smile across her face.

‘How are you, Candice, all well over there?’ Anya felt pleased at how normal her voice sounded despite the knowledge that the woman she loved was curled up only inches from her naked pussy.

‘I’m great, thank you.’ Candice, as no-nonsense as ever, dived straight into the business of the day. ‘I’m pleased to say that the personnel alterations we’ve had this end seem to be an improvement, rather than the procedural nightmare that we both feared.’

Anya listened hard as Candice listed the strengths of the new employees and what she hoped they would bring to Parker Software as a whole. But as the minutes ticked by, and Clara hadn’t so much as breathed on her, Anya found her focus beginning to falter.

‘And if his impact so far is anything to go by, then I judge that Stuart Hopkirk will turn out to be the better of the new candidates to fulfil the transatlantic element of the sales force. He’s more of a “people person”, if you see what I mean?’ Candice emphasised her point by using her fingers to show the inverted commas around the statement that Anya had only partially heard.

Why hadn’t Clara done anything yet? Last time this had happened, her lover had been straight in with the action. That had been hard enough, trying to keep her tone business-like when Clara had been employing her mouth so expertly. This non-action was far worse. Anya was so braced for the feel of the first touch that she knew she was losing the thrust of what Candice was saying.

‘Anya, are you OK?’ Candice’s southern twang sounded genuinely concerned as her counterpart failed to answer a question.

‘Sorry, the screen broke up then for a bit,’ Anya rallied, not daring to glance in Mark’s direction, knowing he’d be annoyed at her lack of professionalism. ‘Could you repeat that one, please?’

‘Sure. I was saying that Hopkins will be over in the UK next month, so I’ll confirm dates with you once flights are booked. Mark should talk with him face to face. His ideas on company development are interesting.’

‘Of course. I’ll sort a meet and greet session in London as soon as you confirm timings.’

‘Excellent! Right, that just leaves us to sort Mark’s visit to the States in the summer. Are you coming with him this year? It would be great to meet you in person.’

‘I doubt it. I – owwww!’ Anya jumped as a sharp pair of teeth dug into her pussy. ‘Oh, do excuse me; I think I was just stung. Must be an insect in here or something.’

Candice’s eyes narrowed. She looked far from convinced, but was too professional and polite to do anything other than take Anya’s word for it.

Anya could feel a blush start to creep up her neck and tinge her cheeks pink as Clara continued to nibble her teeth over and around her mound, pulling back her labia with a sharp pressure which she knew could bring Anya off very quickly.

It was time to end this conference call, and quickly. ‘Well, my diary has the last four days of July pencilled in as a possible. How does that fit with you?’

Candice tapped a few buttons on the out of sight iPad Anya knew she was physically attached to, and looked up with an orthodontically enhanced, white toothed smile. ‘The 29th is out, but the four days prior to that are clear. Shall I book Mark in?’

Without even bothering to check those days were free in Mark’s calendar, Anya said, ‘That would be excellent.’ As Clara’s tongue and right hand joined in the exploration of her crotch, Anya pretended to write down the dates.

‘Anything else you require today, Candice?’ Anya squeezed her fingernails into her hidden palms, trying to deflect the need to wriggle her arse closer to Clara’s lips, which had begun to move even faster.

‘I think that just about concludes things. Thanks for your time, Anya.’

Issuing a smile of genuine relief as Candice bought things to a close, Anya felt Clara’s long fingernails began to delicately scrape the space below her clit. Her smile toward Candice froze for a split second as Clara then forcibly pushed a hand under Anya, shoving her butt upwards so her anus could be tickled.

‘One moment please, ladies.’ Mark strode across the room, and bent into the eyeline of the video link.

‘Good morning, Mark. I’m sorry; I hadn’t realised you were there.’ Candice’s face lit up, leaving no one in any doubt as to how attractive she thought the owner of Parker Software was.

‘I’ve just arrived, sweetheart.’ Mark oozed charm at Anya’s American associate. ‘Could you be an absolute star and give me a brief breakdown of sales figures for the last quarter your end?’

Anya could have cried as Clara’s digits increased their pace. As she struggled to keep her body still from the waist up, her arse squirmed and her shoulders tensed. She felt like some kind of sinister ventriloquist’s dummy as her upper body stiffened, a look which, at an executive level, could so easily be interpreted as lack of confidence, and therefore weakness. If she wasn’t careful Candice would be putting the word about that she was cracking up. Given half the chance, Anya knew she would be on the next plane to the UK, kicking her out, so she could work with Mark instead.

Gathering herself together, doing her best to blank out what was happening to her below desk level, Anya snapped back into PA mode. ‘Actually, that would be very helpful for me as well; but if you wish for some time to gather that information, then I am happy to schedule another call tomorrow?’

‘Well, I can help a little now.’ Candice addressed Mark rather than the PA. Normally Anya would have been offended, but today she was simply relieved to have the impetus taken away from her for a minute, so she could take the opportunity to lift her buttocks from the chair, allowing Clara easier access to her backside. Instantly, Clara shuffled a digit inside her anus, and Anya trapped her girl’s finger and right arm beneath her, successfully limiting the source of the sensually distracting motion around her groin.

Undetected, however, Clara’s left hand continued its adventure by running up Anya’s legs, dancing only the tips of her fingers over the exposed flesh, making Anya shiver, causing the inserted finger to burrow deeper into her backside.

As Candice and Mark discussed import and export figures, Anya found it harder to remain centred on them, her mind drifting more and more to the curled-up creature beneath the desk.

‘Can you confirm that for me please, Anya?’ Mark’s voice snapped Anya back to attention. She was suddenly convinced by the way he and Candice were staring at her that this was at least the second time he’d asked her that question.

She knew there was no point in bluffing; they were both too shrewd for that. ‘I’m sorry, I allowed myself to be distracted. Can you repeat that, please?’

‘Sorry, Anya, I don’t have the time.’ Mark was brusque, and he turned his face back to the video link, treating Candice to his most disarming smile, ‘I must apologise for my PA’s behaviour, Candice. This unsatisfactory situation will be cleared up. Do you have time for another link meeting tomorrow?’

‘Certainly Mark, about 3 p.m.?’

Anya bristled silently, noticing that Candice hadn’t even referred to her diary, and privately hoped she’d find she was already busy and would have to reschedule, and therefore embarrass herself.

‘I’ll speak to you then. Many thanks, Candice; until tomorrow.’ Mark clicked off the link, and the room went deadly quiet…


Available in paperback or as an e-book, The Voyeur can be purchased from-

Amazon UK- –

Happy reading,

Kay xxx

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Release Blitz and Tasty Taster! The Honey Peach Affair by Dale Bradford

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May 14  |  eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Today I’m delighted to be able to bring you an extract from Dale Bradford’s first novel, The Honey Peach Affair. Unusually for this site, this is not a work of erotica, but a mystery based around the erotica and porn industries.  Who better than Dale, after many a year at the ETO Magazine, to delve into the industries darker side?



A social drink with Britain’s hottest adult entertainment star is the starting point for the biggest adventure of film reviewer Bruce Baker’s life.

When her sister asks for his help in investigating the star’s disappearance, law-abiding Bruce chalks up a charge sheet worthy of a career criminal, during his encounters with the unscrupulous and the fearsome – while dealing with a disagreeable boss who is looking for an excuse to sack him.

Sharing his journey is a virtuous anti-porn campaigner, whose cause Bruce inadvertently elevates to national prominence, and it culminates in Bruce sitting on one of the biggest stories any journalist could ever hope to uncover.

But he doesn’t want to write it.

The Honey Peach Affair is a murder mystery with elements of romantic comedy. It takes place in 2003 and is set in the adult entertainment industry.



…Although the M5 traffic was quite heavy Bruce pulled into the hotel’s car park ten minutes before he had arranged to meet Rachel. He strode purposefully through the hotel’s glass and chrome revolving door and approached the counter in the lobby which had a Love Shack sign above it. A slim woman in her early twenties, with a mass of dark curls, was sat behind it.

“Hello Gina,” Bruce said, reading her name badge. “I’m Bruce, from AMG magazine.”

Gina explained that the Love Shack bash was taking place in one of the function rooms and that complimentary refreshments were being served on the hotel’s lawns. She wrote Bruce’s name and the title of his publication on a blank badge and offered to take him through.

“Is it okay if I wait for a colleague first?” he said.

“Sure. You didn’t come together?”

“No, she… it’s a long and winding road of a story.”

“It’s a her? That’s awesome. I’ll get her badge ready. What’s her name?”

Bruce smiled. That’s a good question. Her name is Rachel. But Rachel what?

Gina looked up at him expectantly, felt tip pen poised. “Her name?”

“It’s probably best if she tells you,” Bruce said.


“I don’t really know her that well…”

“You don’t know her well enough to tell me her name?” Gina looked sceptical.

Bruce closed his eyes. He hadn’t thought this through. He paused for a few seconds and then inspiration struck: “She’s a freelancer. A freelance photographer. That we’ve booked through an agency.”

“Oh right,” Gina said. “Now it makes sense! Well, I hope she’s broad minded, we’ve got some pretty scary looking new lines on show here today.”

Out of the corner of his eye Bruce spotted Rachel emerging from a taxi that had pulled up outside the hotel. She swished through the revolving door and ran up to him.

“Bruce, darling,” she said, hugging him. “How wonderful to see you again!”

Gina stared at her. “You guys do know each other!”

“Of course we do,” Rachel said, returning the stare.

Gina said: “You haven’t brought a camera?”

“Why would I bring a camera?”

“It’s okay,” Bruce said, pulling his small digital out of his jacket pocket. “She can use mine.”

“Look, if you guys have got something going on, that’s cool,” Gina said. “You don’t have to…”

“Thank you Gina,” said Bruce, ushering Rachel towards the function room.

“Wait, photographer lady!” Gina called after them. “You need a badge to get in.”

Bruce groaned. They returned to the desk and Rachel spelled out her name for Gina, who wrote it in the space provided and handed it over with a thin smile.

“Rachel Rogers?” Bruce said, staring at Rachel’s badge as they walked towards the function room.

“Do you have a problem with alliterative names, Bruce bloody Baker? At least they are easy to remember.”

He laughed. “No, but I thought you’d be a Peach.”

“That sounds a bit like a chat-up line. Are you trying to seduce me, Mr Baker?”

“I meant your surname,” Bruce spluttered. “I thought it would be Peach.”

“Same mother, different fathers,” Rachel tutted. “Don’t you listen to anything I say?”

A sign on the door of the function room read ‘Restricted access – invited guests aged 18+ only’ and a hefty man with a shaved head and goatee beard stood guard. He glanced briefly at Bruce and Rachel’s badges and, moving only his left arm, held the door open for them.

As they went through, they were greeted by another hefty man with shaved head and goatee beard. The function room was bigger than Bruce expected and decorated in the style of a Venetian ballroom, with flocked red and gold wallpaper and elaborate chandeliers dotted around the ceiling. Three booths had been constructed down one wall and opposite them was a series of desks with Love Shack representatives sat behind them. To the rear were two sets of doors, leading out to the lawns.

A few dozen people were milling around inside and talking in hushed tones. They turned to look at Bruce and Rachel as they entered but, failing to recognise either of them, quickly returned to their conversations.

“Why would they stage a shindig here, in the arse end of the country?” Rachel asked Bruce.

“This is hardly the arse end…”

“They’re never going to get the London media to travel to a regional event. If something is important it takes place in London.”

“You’re remarkably well informed for a sales rep…”

“Oh come on Bruce, it’s common sense,” she said dismissively, heading for the booths.

Each featured a table at the front stacked with posters and DVDs and a sign indicating the name of the performer – Wanda Wette, Cherry Chicolo and Honey Peach. All three were unoccupied. Behind the tables were stacks of plain cardboard boxes, containing the new products.

“Where are they?” Rachel asked.

A young girl in a black Love Shack T-shirt wandered over and said brightly: “They will be back in about twenty minutes.”

“What are they doing, having their implants serviced?” Rachel said.

The young girl’s enthusiasm was undimmed by the catty remark. “They’re outside having some photos with the press. Can I help you with anything?”

“We’ll wait,” Rachel sighed. She approached the Honey Peach booth and picked up a Legend of the Amazon Women DVD. Reading the back cover blurb, she wrinkled her nose.

“You go and do your work,” she said to Bruce, shooing him away with a hand gesture. “I’ll stay here and brush up on my porn abbreviations.”

Bruce dutifully whipped out his camera and took a series of pictures.

Gina approached him with an A4 envelope. “Hey Bruce, here’s a press kit for our new products, which we’re calling the Signature Series. The Head Master, Spasm Chasm and Hand Job are lifelike casts of each girl’s head, vagina and hand…”

“Has there been much interest?” Bruce asked, accepting the pack.

“It’s still kind of early,” Gina said. “We’re expecting more people this afternoon.”

“Maybe it would have been better to hold it in London?”

She raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows at him.

He added: “You know, as far as the London media is concerned, if an event is important it takes place in London.”

Before she could reply they were both distracted by the piercing sound of a glass being smashed and raised voices. A short stocky man in a black suit was dragging a taller man in through the doors by his hair. The shorter man had pulled the taller man’s head close to him and he was swearing quietly in his ear.

“Oh Lord…” Gina said, covering her eyes with her hand and lowering her head.

The two men continued through the function room where the short one flung the tall one towards the bouncer, and made a gesture which appeared to suggest he wanted him removed from the building.

“Will you excuse me?” Gina said to Bruce. “You’re going to be here for some time, right?”

Bruce nodded.

“Cool, because before you go, Mr Sachetti wants to meet you,” she said.

“As long as that isn’t him,” Bruce said, gesturing at the short man.

The look she gave him told him that it was. “I’m afraid he can be a bit old school.”

Bruce jumped as he felt someone put their hand on his shoulder and he was relieved to see it was Rachel.

“Well there’s nothing like a PR disaster to liven up a dull Tuesday afternoon,” she said.

“What happened?”

“The turnout is so disappointing there are heaps of unopened bottles of wine on the tables outside,” she said. “That reporter from a local freesheet decided to stuff his bag with a couple.”

“Really? That’s a bit off…”

“That’s what journalists are like,” she said. “No offence but they’re freeloaders, especially lower down the orders. Taking exception to it is like walking into a public toilet and complaining it smells of pee. Speaking of which, do you know what’s in those boxes on the stands? Rubber casts of each girl’s fanny – how gruesome is that?”

“That’s shocking,” Bruce agreed, trying to suppress a smile.

“How sad must some men be to buy rubber body parts to shag?”

Bruce shrugged. No good could come from him answering this question. “Shall we go outside and see if the photographers have finished?”

They hadn’t, so they sat at one of the round pub-style tables. Rachel examined the label of the white wine chilling in the chrome ice bucket centrepiece. Several long oblong tables on the terrace were covered with white linen tablecloths and offered a variety of salads, sandwiches and cold meats, though they were slowly spoiling in the summer sun.

The wide expanse of lawn ran for several hundred yards down to a man-made lake where a small crowd congregated. One of the girls had been persuaded to wade in and splash in the shallow end for the photographers.

Rachel grabbed two glasses and unscrewed the cap of one of the wine bottles. “I know it’s very low-rent but I actually quite like fruity Germans,” she said, filling the glasses.

Bruce raised his glass to his lips and, shading the sun from his eyes with his hand, looked across at his companion. Her attractive face was accentuated by the backdrop of lush green lawns and bright blue summer sky.

“So what’s a nice boy like you doing in porn, Bruce?” she said. “Before I met you I thought you’d be some lecherous old creep.”

“I don’t work in porn, I work in publishing…”

She guffawed. “Okay you keep telling yourself that, darling!”

“It’s true. I’m doing the same job I was doing when I was writing about video games.”

“You were in the video games industry?” she said.

“No, I was in publishing then too,” Bruce replied, spotting the trap she had set for him.

She laughed. “So what happened?”

“One of my bosses left to start Adult Movie Guide. Hardcore pornography had just been legalised to sell in licensed sex shops and he thought porn could be the new video games, so he invited me to join him.”

Rachel removed a DVD from her bag. Staring intently at the case, she asked: “Do they honestly expect people to believe that these are real nuns? Since when did nuns have tattoos and pierced nipples?”

“Are you telling me they don’t?”

“Thank the Lord, it looks like they’ve finished the photos,” Rachel said, standing up. “Is it me or does this have the air of a really bizarre wedding?”

Bruce stood up too. The group was walking noisily up the lawns from the lake. As they approached, Bruce could see that the entourage consisted of two T-shirted Love Shack girls, a few shabbily dressed photographers and two porn stars. And neither of them was Honey Peach.

“She’s not there, is she?” Rachel said.

“It doesn’t look like,” Bruce replied.

Rachel’s face flushed with anger. She sat back down and downed the contents of her wine glass. “You told me she would be here, Bruce,” she said, emphasising each word. “I’ve taken time off work to be here today.”

“I’ll sort it out,” he said, walking towards the group.

Rachel huffed.

“Hi, I’m Bruce from AMG magazine,” Bruce said to one of the Love Shack girls. “Is Honey Peach about?”

“Have you met Cherry Chicolo and Wanda Wette?” the girl said, gesturing to the two performers, who were now snogging for the benefit of the photographers.

“I specifically came to see Honey Peach,” Bruce said.

“Unfortunately she’s let us down,” the girl said. “We’re as disappointed as you are.”

Bruce doubted that.

“But we’ve got Wanda and Cherry!” the girl said with a flourish, gesturing again in their direction.

The group reached the terrace. Some of the photographers followed Cherry Chicolo and the Love Shack girls inside while the others sat down at a table and made a start on the wine.

Wanda Wette approached Bruce. “Did you just say you were Bruce Baker?”

Bruce nodded. “Hi, how you doing?”

Wanda calmly picked up the open bottle of wine from the table, looked at the label for a few seconds and then poured it over Bruce’s head. “That’s for what you said about me last month.”

The photographers cheered. One asked her to do it again so he could photograph it.

“What did I say?” Bruce spluttered.

“That you’ve seen more attractive sacks of potatoes than me,” Wanda said.

Bruce considered how to respond as the cold sticky wine ran down his chest, causing his white linen shirt to become transparent and stick to his skin. The commotion had brought people from inside the function room out onto the terrace. One of the Love Shack girls saw what had happened and quickly stepped in to steer Wanda away from Bruce.

“Bravo Bruce, you certainly sorted that out,” said Rachel, applauding in a slow, mocking manner.

Bruce picked up a paper napkin and wiped the wine off his face. “Just one of my fans,” he explained…


 About the author:

Dale Bradford has been writing for consumer magazines, national newspapers and specialist interest publications since the 1980s. He is currently the editor of Erotic Trade Only (ETO), a B2B magazine for the UK adult retail sector. The Honey Peach Affair is his first novel.



Good luck with your first story Dale

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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Smut By The Sea: Scarborough 23rd May

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May 14  |  Uncategorized  |   Kay Jaybee

This year will be the third Smut by the Sea at Scarborough Library and it’s bigger and better than ever before with a schedule filled with sexy, seaside shenanigans.  This year’s event is sponsored by Sexhibition, the brand new and innovative Sex expo to be held in Manchester this August. Smut UK will be there, you should be too!


On the 23rd May 2015 Smut UK will take over the upstairs of Scarborough library from 9am -5pm with workshops, performances and more to delight you. All day you will be able to indulge in the delights of the erotic market place. Get your homemade gifts and treats from Bella Settarra, and Cara Sutra will be giving away goody bags and selling sexy treats including DVDs, bondage gear and lube. Pick up a book from the Smutty book stall, check out Steph’s Ann Summers table and of course you must have a go on the world famous Erotic Tombola, you never know what you might win.


There will be two reading slams filled with top quality authors, make sure you come and listen to Cara SutraJanine AshblessKiki DeLovely, Charlie J Forrest , Bella Settarra, , Anna Sky Slave Nano, Cameryn Moore, Helen J Perry, Ashe Barker, Jacqueline Brocker, Ashley R Lister, Lisabet Sarai, and Victoria Blisse as they read 5 minute excerpts for your aural pleasure.

Three diverse workshops will take place though out the day, Jennifer Denys will be leading one on researching and writing Werewolf stories, Slave Nano will be Kinking up the Past in his historical and sexy workshop and Cameryn Moore, professional potty mouth will be talking dirty to filth up your fiction or steam up your sex life.

And as if that’s not enough there will be performances from the Enchanting Bea Noir and the sensual Blue Belle and those brave enough can pick up a Free Spanking from Mistress Cara Sutra!

Tickets are still available including a VIP package that includes a sexy goody bag filled with treats, your lunch and priority seating in all workshops, performances and slams.


Don’t miss this great event!!

Kay xxx




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ETO Awards: The Best Erotica Writer of 2015 is…

May 12  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

I’m a thrilled to bits to be able to announce that, for the third year running, I have been nominated for the ETO’s Best Erotica Author of the Year award!!

ETO 2015

As ever, the competition is fierce!! So if you’re in the trade, and eligible to vote, make sure you do!!

ETO award noms

The choice is between myself (novels, novellas, and short stories), my fellow Brit Babe, Kd Grace (novels, novellas, and short stories), EL James (nothing since 2012), Tiffany Reisz (romances with sexy episodes), and Emily Dubberly (series of quick erotic reads). I’m glad I don’t have to choose the winner!!

There are loads of other categories to vote for as well, including Best Journalist, Best Shop Manager, Best On-line Retailer and so on…

Congratulations to everyone who has been nominated!!!

Huge thanks in advance for voting, and for supporting the ETO!

Kay xxx

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