Tasty Taster from Take Control

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September 29  |  BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Today we’re in the realm of Male Domination and Female Submission…



Take Control: Stories of Male Domination/Female Submission is a collection of toe curlingly sexy tales of bondage and female submission from the pen of best selling writer Kay Jaybee. From a spankingly delicious Dinner With Tess, to a Staged public sex fantasy, an unforgettable alfresco hosing in Deluged, a kinky scientific Experiment, and the realisation of a long held threesome fantasy in The Necklace, Take Control offers five bite sized stories that will satisfy any lover quality erotica.


I’m going to tease you with a little taster today from The Experiment

They would follow his instructions to the letter. That was what she had claimed. Still, he was suspicious. It was probably all a con, a devious way of playing on his growing obsession. But it might not be – it might be genuine – he might get to see what he longed to see…

A petite, traditionally dressed, stunningly beautiful Malaysian girl led him into a dimly lit room. The scientist dropped his briefcase next to a comfortable wing-backed armchair, behind which was a small but well-stocked bar. Suspended from the ceiling, a state of the art camcorder pointed forwards, poised and ready to record all that was to follow. Tastefully tame classical music was being piped into the room via a number of wall speakers; speakers which he hoped would reveal some far more interesting sounds in the very near future.

About a metre in front of the chair, a large picture window had been fitted neatly between that room and the next, creating both a theatre and private audience auditorium. A thick red curtain was drawn across the other side of the glass, so that as yet the voyeur could witness nothing from the space beyond.

The hostess, hovering by the bar, gestured to the various bottles of spirits with a questioning glance. He selected a whiskey and, shrugging off his jacket, waited as a triple measure of amber liquid was sloshed into a cut-glass tumbler. With the drink, the girl passed him a white envelope, on which was written The Story Thus Far.

He sat down, fumbling open the letter with hasty fingers, and his eyes devoured the words: Shortly you will see Gail and Jade. Both have been fully appraised as to your requirements. They have been placed within the neighbouring room, secured as per your instructions.

Before your arrival, again as you requested, the girls were subjected to considerable concentrated arousal to the breasts alone, and had nipple clamps applied. Both females are now desperate for further attention. We hope you enjoy the performance. Sit back, relax, and enjoy. The Malaysian girl bowed and left.

Making himself as comfortable as possible, he sat in the chair, satisfied that – so far, at least – his wishes had been carried out.

This whole thing was an experiment: an exercise to discover how much attention needed to be applied to a woman’s breasts alone before climax overtook the subject. Any resulting arousal of his own, he had convinced himself, was coincidental, and of secondary importance to the enquiry…



If you’d like to buy this e-book, it is available from Amazon UK,, and all good e-retailers. (It is also available for Kobo, Nook and on iTunes)

Happy reading!!!

Kay xx

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A little something in rubber: Quick Kink Two

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September 22  |  BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

I thought I’d share a little something with you this weekend from my VERY kinky anthology, Quick Kink Two .

How about a helping of some good old KJB, BDSM action?

The Bride Wore Rubber

If I had been a newspaper journalist reporting on the wedding I would have used the headline, ‘The Bride Wore Rubber.’ Red rubber to be precise. Not in dress form, but sparingly, in the manner befitting the chief slave of an exclusive S&M club owner.

Thin straps of rubber circled her neck and supported a harness, which looped around her ample tits, pushing them up unnaturally high. Her flat stomach was bare, but her legs were tightly encased in rubber stockings, which moulded themselves perfectly to the contours of her body, outlining her firm thighs and slender calves. This skin-tight covering stopped short of her backside, revealing her round tanned arse and her smoothly shaved pussy in all their glory.

There was an elegant dignity about the girl. She was tall, slim, blonde and conventionally beautiful, but there was more to her than that. A quiet strength seemed to emanate from her, a strength that the addition of a red eye-mask, blinding her better than any bridal-veil, didn’t diminish. A leather lead was clipped to a matching choker which was, in turn, secured around her slender neck. The choker, in deference to the occasion, was studded with three small diamonds.

As the time for the ceremony drew near, I stood amongst the oddly semi-dressed assemblage of guests. They had broken into two clusters, one on each side of the club’s dancehall, leaving a makeshift aisle running down its centre.

At the end of this aisle, awaiting his slave-bride, stood Michael. I don’t know his surname, but I do know he is a very powerful man, with powerful friends, who like to play dangerous games. He gave off an air of quite arrogant control as he surveyed the scene before him. He, unlike his guests, was wearing full wedding regalia, a grey morning suit, cravat and top hat. Handsome in a rugby player kind of way, Michael stood head and shoulders above his best-man, whose chest was bare, and whose black leather trousers squeaked slightly as he paced up and down the aisle, waiting edgily for the procession to begin.


From my privileged place at the side of the crowd, I glanced towards the doors. The increased noise of activity coming from behind them indicated that the bridal party was almost ready. I looked towards the rather uncomfortable reverend, who was waiting for what, I’m sure he hoped, would be a swift service.

I tensed, as did every guest in the room, as Mendelssohn’s Wedding March struck up over the clubs sound system, and the hall doors swung open.

The immediate whoops and cat calls from the overheated guests showed their instant approval of the party’s attire.

Holding the bride’s lead was a large man, who like the groom, wore a morning suit. A whisper from the crowd informed me that he was the brides’ future brother-in-law, and instantly I could see the family likeness. The solid chin, the square frame to the body, the arrogant dark blue eyes.

The bride followed him, blindly, sedately, humbly, on all fours. She crawled along, her breasts swinging beneath her, her arse burning with sharp red wields, that had obviously been administered by a whip only moments before. In addition, the bride had received an extra facet to her outfit. A string of red Thai beads had been threaded into her anus. I could only imagine how she must feel, debased and humiliated before this mass of largely familiar faces.

Two bridesmaids completed the group. Both similarly bedecked in skimpy white rubber harnesses and leggings, their faces were solemn and bowed. These were Michael’s other two personal slaves. I wondered if they were jealous of their colleague’s status, or if they were relieved that it wasn’t them blinded and on all fours in front of the entire club membership.

As the bride reached the makeshift altar, the crowd bunched forward, each person eager to watch the ceremony at close quarters.

I slipped to the front of the room, manoeuvring my way to a space behind the vicar, where a hired, wide-eyed, camcorder operator already stood, his mouth open in disbelief.

On reaching her Master, the brides blindfold was eased up, and she kissed his shoes, as the lead was passed to the groom. 

Michael looked down approvingly at his slave for a second, before allowing her to stand next to him. She rose with amazingly controlled poise, making sure the beads didn’t have a chance to escape from their intimate confinement, and therefore denying her intended the excuse to publicly punish her.


The vicar began the service, and with what seemed an alarming adherence to tradition in the circumstances, the wedding speeches and vows began, just as if we’d been stood in any church or registry office in the country. I listened intently over the background buzz of the guest’s subdued chatter. The bride’s name was Mary. I wondered if her husband would ever use it, or if she’d be called Slave for the rest of her life.

When it was time for the groom to pass his slave her wedding ring my stomach contracted as, rather than a ring, the best man passed the groom what looked like a silver staple gun, but what I soon discovered was actually a piercing device.

The expression on the bride’s face showed that she hadn’t expected that. I watched intently as the groom bent and sucked hard at Mary’s left nipple, pulling it with his teeth until it stood proud and firm. Then on a pre-arranged signal, one of the bridesmaids stepped forward and wiped a small cloth, presumably of antiseptic, over the extant nipple. Once that had been applied, Michael wasted no time before putting the gun in place, piercing and ringing his wife like a chattel.

The bride’s cries of pain as the gold band was permanently secured onto her were partially drowned out by the booming voice of the clergyman saying, ‘by the giving and receiving of this ring, I now pronounce you Man and Wife, Master and Slave.’

I scribbled frantically into my notebook, as, like every eye in the room, I observed the silent tear streaked face of the bride. She was turned slowly, so that the whole room could see her newly swollen tit with its golden accessory. The congregation cheered manically as the vicar raised his arms and cried, ‘You may now kiss the bride.’

Nodding his thanks to the vicar who hastily departed from the room, Michael turned his bride to face him, and lifting her bowed head to his, kissed her tenderly, so tenderly that I wondered whether there was a genuine feeling of love there. This thought only lasted for a second, as he roughly pushed Mary to her knees, making the bead tail clatter as it hit the floor.

Michael called in a voice of authority, ‘Ladies and Gentleman, the wedding party will adjourn to my private study, you guests may amuse yourself freely, and then, in one hour, dinner will be served.’

His last few words were almost buried beneath the violent eruption of noise from the dance floor, as an instant orgy exploded around me. It took only seconds for groups and couples of men and women, women and women, and men and men, to be pushed up against one another, mouths, tits, hands and cocks everywhere.


I however, had been instructed to follow the wedding party.

When I reached the large old fashioned style study, I was offered a leather chair in the corner of the room, alongside my still stunned filming partner. My breathing had become rather shallow, and I was all too aware that the events I’d witnessed had had a rather unprofessional effect on me. I attempted to compose myself, for I was sure that things were about to get worse.


If you would like to read the rest of Quick Kink Two, it is available from Xcite, Amazon, and all good e-retailers.

Happy reading

Kay xx

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A Weird Way to Make a Living

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

After 12 years in the business, I have come to one overwhelming conclusion – this really is  weird way to make a living!

For example…

In 2013, I was at the big Erotica event in London. I was stood in a large show hall surrounded by semi clad folk modelling bondage equipment, looking at the latest line in metal cock harnesses, and wondering how much head room there really was in a human kennel- and no one was batting an eyelid. At what point in my life did this become normal? And how fantastic that it was so- well, ordinary (I say this in a good way)!!


Sex is fun. An overly simplistic sentence; but so true. And there I was, surrounded by people who are dedicating their entire careers to ensuring that it stays that way- that sex gets better- that every living person has the chance to have a better erotic experience; be they straight, gay, lesbian, large, small, able bodied, disabled, and so on… No one is excluded. The playing field is open and fair, and the air feels full of openness- how sad that an industry dedicated to make people feel good and happy, is so often shut behind closed doors. Anyway…

For example…

…there I was at the ETO show 2014, eating lube flavoured ice cream with my fellow Brit Babes ice cream (I went for lemon and peach lube on mine- DELICIOUS- something I wouldn’t normally say about lube). And then I was back again this year, sipping lube flavoured cocktails…

Vodka and Lube cocktails thanks to Systems-JO!!

Vodka and Lube cocktails thanks to Systems-JO!!


Now I’ve started to think about all the other things I’ve done, and all the things I’ve seen, that I’d never have experienced if I wrote any other genre but erotica., my head is full of memories- all of them extraordinary.

If I wrote horror stories, I’d never have been invited to the wonderful Sh Woman’s Store, to stand around tables of vibrators, reading passages from The Perfect Submissive or Not Her Type. I would never have been picked up by a nice young man from Vanity Studios in London (not as dodgy as it sounds) to do a photo shoot in Soho- which lead to another one the following year.


There would have been no trip to Erotica 2013, to sell my books to some of the friendliest people in the world- many of whom had forgotten to put all of their clothes on…There would be no Brit Babes, and there would be no Brit Babe team cheering us all on- unthinkable!!

BB antho- SJWIT_1

I’d never have visited the ETO shows, or been nominated for an award or three- I’m still amazed I won one!


If I didn’t write erotica, perhaps I wouldn’t look at any and every object around me and automatically change it into some sort of sex toy- without even registering I’m doing it. (At the moment it’s chocolate covered coffee beans- you’ll see in time!!) Perhaps everyone I speak to wouldn’t take each innocent sentence I say as an innuendo? I certainly wouldn’t be teaching classes on how to sex up the supermarket!!

I’m as sure as I can be that I wouldn’t get to stand in a public building and spank people, as I did At Smut by the Sea in Scarborough if I wrote sci-fi!

Spanking Lucy

I know for a fact that if I hadn’t spent the last dozen years in erotica my life wouldn’t be so full or so friendly. Okay, I get a few negative comments, and I could do without the occasional bit of stalker stuff, but WOW- it’s SO much fun!

It might well be a weird way to make a living- but it makes people happy. I’m not sure I’d have been able to say that if I had stuck with my very first job – working in a Welsh Hat factory….

Happy reading,

Kay xx



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Anniversary Week: Sweetie taster from The Collector

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September 15  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

This week I’m celebrating 12 years in erotica, by sharing a few tasty tasters from my archive. Today, I’m in the mood for a little liquorice…

The Collector 2016


‘Perhaps I should explain that we work in a sweet shop. We sell the old fashioned kind of sweets in jars; lemon sherbets, kola-kubes, cherry lips, dolly mixtures, alongside all the new stuff and posh boxes of chocolates.

It all happened quite quickly I guess. It was obvious from the moment I took the job that we wanted each other, but initially we held back. Work isn’t the best place after all, especially if there are only two members of staff. Anyway, as I said, it was sort of inevitable really.

So, last Thursday evening, there I was, starkers on the bed, watching at my boss who was naked, commanding, and utterly gorgeous.

I was not tied to the bed, but I wish I had been. He’d ordered me to stay still, but it was unbelievably difficult to obey as my body desperately wanted to move towards him.

My arms were folded with my hands sat beneath my head, and my legs were pushed up so that my knees pointed into the air. It was as if I was about to undergo some unpleasant medical intrusion. He’d placed a soft silk cushion under my arse to give him, as he put it, “Better visual.”

He flashed a little bag in front of my eyes, but made sure I couldn’t actually see what it contained. I frowned at his long delicate fingers, unsure of what was coming next. He just smiled.

I tried to concentrate on what he was holding, but the heat surging through my breasts from the whipping they had just received was taking most of my attention. My nipples burnt and longed for a cooling tongue to kiss them better. I had to push my head back harder into my hands to prevent myself from moving them and rubbing myself off.

At last he showed me the packet. It was a Dib-Dab; a packet of loose sherbet with a cherry flavoured lolly conveniently included. When I was a kid I loved to suck all the sherbet off the sticky lolly.

I flinched as he ripped it open. There was something about the way he was looking at me that confirmed that the agony he’d previously inflicted was simply the first course, and that seconds’ was coming up. I longed to scream out ‘Just get on with it!’, but the ball gag which he’d lodged in my mouth prevented the luxury of speech, so I just had to content myself with biting down hard onto the black rubber intrusion.

My thighs felt slick with my own juices. I tried hard not to think about the picture I must have presented. As I’ve said, I wasn’t bound, but I was gagged, and my breasts were pressed through a tight black harness, pushing them up and exposing them as an easy target for the short riding crop I had discovered he kept in the corner of his bedroom.

He pulled the lolly out of the packet and put it in his mouth. As he sucked I could feel my nipples tremble. That was what they needed. I felt unbelievably jealous of a bloody sweet!

After what felt like an eternity he pulled the damp lolly from between his lips and advanced towards me. There was no hanging about, he stuffed its red oval head into my cunt and pushed it until all but the very end of the stick had been swallowed up into my starving hole.

The width of the lolly felt amazing as it stretched me open. I could feel the air rushing in around the thin stick, making me feel empty but full at the same time. I began to shudder in response to the contradiction of sensation, but he slapped my breasts hard and I silently cried out into my rubber guardian.

‘You will not come yet.’ His voice was like gravel, and for a second I had to remind myself that I had wanted this too. He began to slide the lollypop up and down and I closed my eyes, trying for all I was worth not to climax. A task made even harder when he knelt and began to lick the mixture of pussy juice and sweet syrup from around my hole.


I was shaking, I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t going to take much to push me over the edge, even though it had been forbidden. Then he did it. He climbed astride me and sprinkled the sherbet from the Dib-Dab packet all over my tits. The cold sweetie dust tickled as it landed on my sweating skin. My hips twitched as I began to fight a losing battle with myself. As his mouth enclosed my right tit, licking up the sherbet, I groaned into silence as the sweet fizzed against his tongue and my chest. By the time he began to feast on my left side I was shaking and bucking so hard I’m surprised he wasn’t knocked off.

He took very little notice of the fact that I had disobeyed him until every single drop of the tingling dust had been consumed. Only then did his face become a picture of disgust and lust in glorious combination. I began to shiver, no longer with desire, but in response to the look in his eyes. He picked up a liquorice boot lace from the pile of supplies he’d lifted from the shop. Licking the end to dampen it a little he lashed my right nipple hard. Tears instantly sprang to my eyes as he stung me again and again.

Then, taking a handful of the laces, he began to coil them around my harnessed breasts. The black strings were cool against my hot flesh and felt heavy against my need to be sucked, caressed and kissed. The ever growing pyramids of sweets created a sticky barrier against the attention I craved. Soon only my two swollen nipples were visible, poking out from the encircled breasts…


You can find out what happens next by buying The Collector from-

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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Guest Post from Kd Grace: Preorder In The Flesh: How Two Short Stories Became a Series

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September 14  |  eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

I’m delighted to welcome my lovely friend, Kd Grace, to my site today, to share a little of her latest novel with us. It’s brilliant!

Over to you Kd…


It’s always such a pleasure to be over at Kay Jaybee’s place – especially when the reason I’m there is such a happy one, and one that she has cheered me on in since long before In The Flesh was ever written. And now that it’s up for preorder, with a 20th of September launch date, I’m elated to be sharing it at Ms. Jaybee’s place.

In the Flesh is a dark and sexy story that has had several incarnations in shorter forms. The story was originally about a very sexy imaginary lover who is not only very dangerous, but – you guessed it — he’s also not imaginary. The short story made its rounds in two writing groups and was well received, but never quite worked for me because I felt it needed space to grow. I couldn’t think of a better place to let it grow and see what happened than on my blog as a serial. And grow it did! In fact, it took major twists and turns I never would have expected. Not only did it became a full-length novel, but it became book 1 of a series.

In the Flesh is a blend of paranormal erotica and almost, but not quite … okay, quite possibly … horror. What I didn’t know when I began to write it as a serial for my blog is that it would become the first novel in my hush, hush, close to my heart, Medusa’s Consortium series, for which I’d already written what I thought would be book one. Well, as it turns out that first book, Buried Pleasures is actually book three. The Whole idea for the Medusa’s Consortium series was inspired by a short story I wrote several years back for Seducing the Myth, the wonderful book of myth-based erotic tales edited by Lucy Felthouse. I wrote a story called Stones speculating what might happen if Medusa were alive and living a reclusive life in Southern California. I hadn’t written the first paragraph before I knew there was SO much more to a tale of Medusa in the modern age than just a short story, and that this Medusa, my Medusa was out for revenge in a big way. I was SO right! The hair-raising ride is just beginning! You see what I did there.

But wait! There’s more! As I wrote the In the Flesh, which at the time I reckoned would only be a novella, I discovered, to my surprise, that my vampire, Alonso Darlington from my short novella, Landscapes, and his household would be playing a major role, not only in this novel, but in book two, Blind-Sided, which I didn’t even know would be happening until I was nearly finished with In The Flesh. Confused yet?


Oh you won’t see much of Medusa/ AKA Magda Gardener’s story in In The Flesh, though you will definitely feel her power and the shocking extent of her influence, and you will come to understand why the series, and the Consortium are hers. In the Flesh is Susan and Michael’s story, well part of it anyway, and it’s a doozy. If you like sexy urban fantasy/paranormal mixed with more than a few chills and thrills and plenty of sizzle and romance, then In the Flesh is the novel for you. AND! If you still prefer to read a print novel, then hold on to your hats, In the Flesh will soon be coming out in print as well!

In The Flesh Blurb:

When Susan Innes visits her friend, Annie Rivers, at Chapel House, the deconsecrated church Annie is renovating into a home, she discovers her outgoing friend has become reclusive, secretive, and completely enthralled by a mysterious lover, whose presence is always felt, but never seen, a lover she claims is God. As her holiday turns into a nightmare, Susan must come to grips with the fact that her friend’s lover is neither imaginary nor is he human. Even worse, he’s turned his wandering eyes on her, and he won’t be denied his prize. But her demon stalker, known only as the Guardian, is not the only non-human who wants Susan, and if she is to be free of the Guardian and save the life of both her best friend, Annie, and the fallen angel, Michael Weller, whom she’s grown to love, she might just have to give the demon what he wants – a body of his own. In order to do that she’ll need to make a deal with a vampire and bond herself inextricably to a gorgon.

Pre-order In the Flesh:

(Release date: 20th September)

Amazon UK

Amazon US

Amazon AU

Amazon CA

Amazon DE

All Romance eBooks

Barnes & Noble

iBooks UK

iBooks US



 In The Flesh Excerpt:

By the time I finished my breakfast and was ready to go, Annie was already fast asleep, curled in her nest at the foot of the altar. Outside, the smell of burning rubbish stung my eyes and the back of my throat.

I had little enthusiasm for the handbag sale, nor for lingering at the make-up counter. Instead I found myself in a coffee shop, laptop open researching God’s love life, which turned out to be a long history of seducing humans.

Zeus visited Danae in a shower of gold. He seduced Leda in the form of a swan. Eros came to Psyche in the dead of night forbidding her to look upon his face. Hades dragged Persephone down to the Underworld. The Virgin Mary was impregnated by the god of the Bible. In the New Testament, Christ is the bridegroom, and the church his bride. And the list went on and on. Perhaps even the indwelling of the Holy Spirit was just another way for divinity to experience flesh.

I had always loved mythology, and I’d read all these stories before. I’d just never put them together to get the whole picture. And though I was seeing an aspect of divinity that I found rather disturbing, I couldn’t help feeling there was still a piece of the puzzle missing.

I suppose I should have felt relieved. Annie wasn’t as unusual as I’d thought. God was the ultimate stalker, and he didn’t seem to be very faithful to his lovers. Just Annie’s type. I tried not to think about the implications of my experience in the bath last night. After all, it was just mythology, and I’d had a lot of wine. And there’s never any accounting for my vivid imagination. After all, I was a writer. I made my living as a teller of tales.

“What are you reading?”

I jumped at the sound of Annie’s voice and quickly minimized the page. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I’m feeling better.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

She leaned down and whispered next to my ear. “My lover’s God, remember? You can’t hide from him.” I barely had time to register shock before she reached down and restored the page.

“Trying to learn a little bit more about him, are we?”  She smiled at the monitor and nodded knowingly. “None of this does him justice. He’s the Hound of Heaven. He’s always pursuing those he loves, and there’s no escaping. Once he’s set his eyes on you, he’ll do whatever it takes to make you his own.”

I suddenly felt cold.


The Medusa’s Consortium Series

Contrary to popular belief, Medusa is alive and well and living a quiet life in the English Lake District. But don’t let that fool you, ever since she escaped Greece and the Olympians, Medusa/AKA Magda Gardener, has been secretly kicking ass and taking names.

Medusa may be public enemy number one with the Olympians, but in the modern world, Magda Gardener never turns away someone in need. For those she helps, those who are drawn to her, those she seeks out, life will never be the same. Like the Godfather, those who owe Magda Gardener never know when she’ll call in the debt, or what will be required of them when she does. Magda is a rescuer of monsters and demons and a thief of all things dear to the Olympians. She is irreverent, powerful, rich and has her own agenda, in which the lines between right and wrong are not always clearly drawn. Even more importantly, she and her consortium are all that stand between the modern world and a new age of Olympian tyranny. Magda Gardener is a female Nick Fury in dark glasses commanding her monsters, gods and demons version of the Avengers.

But what’s at the heart of the gorgon? Can she ever really heal from the rape of a god or overcome the curse of a goddess? As her consortium of powerful misfits grows into a cohesive, if rather troubled, family, it becomes more and more difficult to keep her distance from the lives of those who belong to her. Scheming to keep one step ahead of the Olympians and wreak as much havoc upon them as possible, can Medusa find redemption and possibly even love among the monsters? The Medusa’s Consortium Series is Magda Gardener’s story and the stories of those drawn to her.



About K D Grace

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, and a proud member of The Brit Babes, K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.

KD has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace,Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms Holly, Fulfilling the Contract, To Rome with Lust, and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Witches trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, The Exhibition, Interviewing Wade are all available.

Find K D Here:                                                                  





Many thanks for another wonderful blog, Kd.

Happy reading everyone,

Kay x

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