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Ten Years as Kay- Part 1

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September 15  |  Book Publications, eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

10th anniThis week see’s the 10th anniversary of the first time I picked up a pen and wrote some erotica! A fact that, in itself, seems impossible to me – a shy, self-conscious, paranoiac woman who has never quite got used to the fact that people actually want to by her books! (For which I THANK YOU ALL!!).

As with any anniversary, I have found myself reflecting on all that has happened both to myself and to the world of erotica in general- and what a roller coaster ride it has been. Or perhaps it’s been more of a carousel, a long roundabout of constant ups and downs!

My first piece of erotica was a written on a paper serviette in a cafe in Aberdeenshire. I swear the idea came to be from nowhere. I don’t know why I was suddenly thinking about a cross dressing male who liked to have his arse spanked- but that is exactly what happened.

lips

It took some time for me to be brave enough to do anything with the story. It was a couple of weeks before it made it onto a proper piece of paper, and several more before it was typed onto my computer and edited into shape. The amount of courage it took me to look up erotica publishers on the Internet- and the covert way I went about it- seems laughable now.

I sent off my story- which I rather unimaginatively had called Jen and Tim to Cleis Press- never expecting to hear anything again, and in the meantime, I’d written a rather kinky poem called Regrets, which I sent to the much missed Oysters and Chocolate web site. Then, I told myself to leave it alone, to look after my children and take up knitting or something. I never expected to hear back from either publisher. I certainly never expected to get both pieces taken- and I truly never expected the buzz the feeling of acceptance gave me- that was it- I was hooked- an addict to the acceptance of a publisher for the rest of my life!

The_Collector_2012

It took 40 short story and poetry publications before I was brave enough to write something longer, and when I did, I cheated!

The Collector is both an anthology and a short novel- a set of different erotic stories- one for every genre within the discipline. I learnt a great deal from writing hat book- and I still hold it in great affection.

Now, 10 years later, with over 100 stories to my name, including many novellas and novels, including the gratifyingly popular The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, I am still addicted, still hungry for the ‘yes’ of a publisher. Having a back record to your name never guarantees a story will be taken, and nor should it. Each new tale I write has to be worth publication on its own merits; it shouldn’t be published just because KJB wrote it.

Of course, I’d be a fool to suggest that every erotica story that has got ‘out there’ is worthy of its publication. The two biggest impacts on erotica writing in the past decade, self publication (KDP from Amazon) and the subsequent flooding of the market with poor quality fiction, and the publication of Fifty Shades of Gray are testament to that. Yes- I‘m generalising, but you get my point!

Per Sub 3

So here I am, 10 years on, with over 100 stories to my name, including the gratifyingly popular The Perfect Submissive Trilogy (The Perfect Submissive, The Retreat, Knowing Her Place), and I’m still scribbling.

(If you want to read more about my reflections on the last decade in erotica- then check out the October edition of the ETO magazine!! xx)

And what of the next decade?

Well- I can EXCLUSIVELY reveal here that there will be one extra short finale to the Perfect Submissive story!! So watch this space in February 2015!!

The Sexy Librarian's Big Book of Erotica

I have four short stories coming out soon-

Taped – The Sexy Librarian’s Big Book of Erotica ed. Rose Caraway (Cleis Press) – you can hear me being interviewed about this story here

Barista Girls – Sapphic Smut (House of Erotica)

Sex Wears Black and Red – Mammoth Book of Uniforms (Mammoth)

Mr Greenline – Mammoth Book of Uniforms (Mammoth)

There will also be a new anthology next year- title to be decided!

And of course, the other ‘me’ Jenny Kane is really busy with the recent release of the contemporary romance novel Romancing Robin Hood, and the imminent release of my first picture book for children , There’s A Cow in the Flat…plus ‘Jenny’ has 2 more novels and a novella brewing.

I’ll leave you now- but I’ll be back soon with Part 2 of my anniversary blog and a great competition!

Happy reading,

Kay xxx

A Snog for Sommer! – Cold shower of champagne anyone?

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September 14  |  Book Publications, eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

asnogforsommer-button

I’m delighted to be able to join in today’s big Blisskiss and do some Smut for Good at the same time, by sending a massive snog to my lovely e-friend Sommer Marsden!!

Check out all the blogs taking part here- and keep your eyes open for lots of great competitions, and find out how to donate to this wonderful cause- the fight against cancer! http://smutforgood.co.uk/a-snog-for-sommer/

My snog for today comes from my erotic romance novella, A Sticky Situation- here’s the blurb…

If there is a paving stone to trip over, or a drink to knock over, then Sally Briers will trip over it or spill it. Yet somehow Sally is the successful face of marketing for a major pharmaceutical company; much to the disbelief of her new boss, Cameron James.

Forced to work together on a week-long conference in an Oxford hotel, Sally is dreading spending so much time with arrogant new boy Cameron; whose presence somehow makes her even clumsier than usual.

Cameron on the other hand, just hopes that he’ll be able to stay professional, and keep his irrational desire to lick up all the accidently split food and drink that is permanently to be found down Sally’s temptingly curvy body, all to himself.

It could be a very long week- unless Cameron can find a way of making Sally slop so much of her after show champagne, that he has no choice but to march her off and relieve her of her sodden clothing… He is sure that, if he could find a way to stop Sally resenting him taking her previous bosses job, then they could enjoy no end of sticky situations together…

***

Sticky situation- cariad

A Sticky Situation was my first foray into the realms of erotic romance. I have written romantic episodes within much (shall we say) ‘harder’ erotic stories and novels, but this time I have left my BDSM toys locked away in the cupboard under the stairs in favour of a lighter touch.

Fear not however, this novella is still packed with KJB style kink, for as Sally and Cameron begin their enforced period of work together at a conference; their road from mutual dislike to mutual lust is far for straightforward! There is more than a dollop of misunderstanding, some inconvenient fantasies, mysterious anonymous notes, a slug of ice-cold store-cupboard action, a splatter of dinner, a dousing of wine, and a sip or two of champagne before they can even contemplate a happy ending…Delicious…

Extract…

…the word “wet” didn’t really cover it this time. She was drenched. They both were.

Cameron pressed his back against the closed store room door behind him, his shirt, tie, and suit trousers had turned from light shades of blue and grey to dark, where the weight of the water had fallen against him.

Shivering, ice cubes in her cleavage, her dress clinging to every curve of her body, Sally violently kicked the champagne buckets away from her feet, and advanced on Cameron with an air of pure unadulterated anger carved into her round face. ‘You … you!’ She spat out her words, incoherent with rage, ‘Look at me! Again! They say I’m the clumsy one, but I’m nothing compared to you! Look what you’ve done to me!’

‘And me. I’m soaked as well.’ Despite feeling horribly uncomfortable in his sopping clothes, Cameron found it an effort to sound cross when he’d so successfully achieved his goal. There was no way she could meet David looking like this.

‘Good. I’m glad you’re wet too.’ Something about Cameron made her feel like stamping her foot and having a tantrum. Sally rubbed her arms, sighing as she spoke ‘I’m fucking freezing.’

‘Me too. We have to get these clothes off ASAP or we’ll both catch pneumonia!’

Cameron had already taken off his tie, and was unbuttoning his shirt with speed, minuscule chunks of ice dropping from him as he moved.

Sally tried not to be impressed by the firm torso that was being so unexpectedly revealed. It was far more muscular than she’d thought it would be, and as the cotton material came away from his shoulders, she found herself giving a small involuntary gasp as her eyes were confronted by a three inch long Celtic cross tattoo at the very top of his right arm.

She shook herself, very aware of the ice trapped against her bra, and how much she really needed to take off her own clothes. That was typical Cameron. He was so damn infuriating. She wouldn’t be able to get comfortable until she was back in her room. It was all right for him to take off his top, but she could hardly do that. It was bad enough that he was staring at her as if he had X-ray vision; examining her as if she was already devoid of clothing.

Common sense took hold of her. ‘What are you doing? You can’t strip off in here! People will think we’ve been up to something when you leave!’

‘I don’t care what people think. You’re a mass of goose pimples, woman. Take that bloody dress off. It’s virtually see-through now it’s soggy anyway, so it isn’t a case of preserving your dignity is it?’

Shaking openly now, Sally didn’t want to think about having to run through Reception towards the lifts looking a total mess for the second time that day. She attempted to get past Cameron to the door without glancing at his torso, which was having an unreasonable effect on her libido. Men like Cameron were not supposed to have tattoos. Somehow it felt as if he was being unfair to her whole belief system just by having one. She began to wonder if he had any more, then taking a firm hand with her imagination said, ‘Just let me get back to my room, then I can warm up and sort out this dress. God knows what I’ll wear tomorrow!’

Cameron caught Sally’s arm, the heat of his touch surprising her considering how cold they both were. She found herself being propelled towards him in the small space, her chest squashed against his. He was so close, his grip so tight, and yet not only couldn’t she move, she found she wasn’t even trying to pull away. A voice at the back of Sally’s head was yelling at her, asking why she wasn’t struggling, but she ignored it, for the rest of her body seemed to know exactly what she wanted to do.

Seizing the hem of Sally’s dress, Cameron moved quickly, his pulse thudding in his ears, expecting her to slap him away at any second, as he yanked the jet black fabric over her head.

Her breasts ached, but only partly because they had been doused in cold water. Not waiting for Cameron to help, Sally unhooked her black bra, whimpering with the relief at the removal of its restraining presence.

Cameron’s quiet murmur of satisfaction at the sight of the tits he’d fantasised about on so many occasions was lost as he bent in the narrow space, immediately burying his head between then,

For a split second Sally’s brain engaged, and she stepped away. Cameron shuffled after her, and fixing his mouth around Sally’s right breast, kissed it lightly between hungry bites, his lips warming her outside and in. Sally found she couldn’t move. In fact she wanted to be closer. Much closer.

Grasping his shoulders, Sally inched nearer, forcing more of her breast into his mouth, groaning in delight as his other hand yanked at her knickers, which had developed a new wet sheen that had nothing at all to do with the emptying of the champagne buckets. She stepped out of her underwear quickly, shaking her knickers from the heels of each shoe.

Peering up, Cameron took in her beauty with an air that was part bewildered wonder and part animal lust. Catching her around the waist, he hoisted Sally up, pushing her bum onto a shelf behind her, so that they were face to face. Neither spoke, talking would have broken whatever spell they were under. He landed his lips on hers, more crushing her than kissing her, as she hungrily responded. Her mouth taking out the fury she felt towards this impossible man…

Competition

If you want to know what happens next you can buy a copy as an ebook or a paperback from Amazon UK, Amzon.com and all good online retailers.

OR- you could win a copy today! Just leave me  a comment telling me who you’d most like to be trapped in a cupboard with… (leave email address as well so I can contact you if you’ve won!)

Happy reading!

Don’t forget to check out all the other Smut for Good blogs- http://smutforgood.co.uk/a-snog-for-sommer/ from some of the very best in the business, including Kd Grace, Victoria Blisse, Alison Tyler, Janine Ashbless and many many more!

So lovely readers, just hop around the different blogs and different snogs all day from today, and you’ll be able to win prizes! If you can donate some money too that would be absolutely wonderful. If you can manage to share the Snog for Summer too that’d be great. Here’s an example of a message you could post on twitter (it’s short enough) and facebook to spread the word:

Snog for Sommer! Enjoy the excerpts, win prizes and donate to help @sommer_marsden and family fight cancer! http://ht.ly/Ao8Lv

Kay xx

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Lucy Felthouse delivers some Timeless Desire!

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September 12  |  eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Today I’m featuring the release of Lucy Felthouse’s latest release!

Out Now – Timeless Desire by Lucy Felthouse @cw1985 #erotica #romance #paranormal #ghost

timelessdesire

Blurb:

Emily arrives at Westbury Hall with a job to do. She’s to clean and conserve all of the books in their impressive library, preserving them for future generations. Not long into her stay at the house, she bumps into the night guard, George. She’d expected an old, balding guy with a comb over, so the hunky chap she actually meets is a very pleasant surprise. The introductions complete, George leaves Emily in peace to get on with her job. But when a falling photograph sets off a chain reaction of ghostly events, Emily and George are thrown together in order to find out who—or what—is causing them. Their investigation uncovers a tragic past, a lost love, and a stunning secret.

PLEASE NOTE: This is a revised and extended of a previously published title, Love Through Time.

Available from: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/timeless-desire/

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22911436-timeless-desire

*****

Excerpt:

Emily received some strange looks and frowns from the people she passed as she walked across the graveled drive towards the front entrance of Westbury Hall. She could appreciate their confusion. It was closing time for the stately home and the last of the visitors were being politely ushered out of the building, yet she was heading inside. What’s more, she’d been invited. She had a job to do.

An elderly lady stood in the porch smiling and nodding as she held the door open for those departing the property. Most of them seemed in no hurry to leave, stopping to make comments to the woman, thanking her for a lovely visit and so on. Emily waited patiently, allowing the patrons to leave before attempting to get in. When the staff member—most likely a volunteer, Emily thought—caught sight of her, she gave her a polite nod of acknowledgment.

Finally, the last of Westbury Hall’s visitors moved out, leaving Emily free to enter. Climbing the single stone step to the threshold of the front porch, she took the hand that had already been offered to her.

Shaking Emily’s hand with a surprising firmness, the woman said, “You must be Miss Stone.” Her smart appearance and the intelligence in her eyes indicated that despite her advancing age, she was far from past it, “I’m Mrs. Thompson, house supervisor.”

“I am,” replied Emily, dropping her hand back to her side, “but please, call me Emily. It’s lovely to meet you. So, house supervisor? Do you live on site?” Not a volunteer, then, but a paid member of staff.

Indicating Emily should step inside the entrance hall, Mrs. Thompson proceeded to close and lock the porch and front doors of the house, securing them in.

“I do,” the older woman said, turning back to face Emily, “I have rooms in a separate building just off the back of this one. So you needn’t worry about me disturbing you.”

“Oh no,” said Emily, worried she’d inadvertently rubbed Mrs.  Thompson up the wrong way, “I didn’t mean that. I was just curious, that’s all. You’re more than welcome to see me at work, Mrs. Thompson, although I’m afraid you won’t see anything terribly exciting.”

Mrs. Thompson smiled now, the warmth reaching her eyes. Emily almost sagged with relief. She’d yet to see the extent of the work she had to do, but she’d been told it was no easy task, so she could be here for some time. The last thing she needed was to upset any of the staff.

“Oh, you’d be surprised, my dear. This is a fascinating old place. Of course, all these old houses have history, but Westbury Hall’s is particularly rich.”

Emily smiled. The woman’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Well then,” she replied, “I can’t wait to learn more about it. I hope you’ll feed me some historical tidbits throughout the time I’m here?”

Mrs. Thompson gave an enigmatic smile. Then, startling Emily somewhat, she turned smartly on her heel and walked deeper into the house. “Come, my dear, I won’t hold you up any longer. I’ll show you to the library, where you’ll soon start uncovering Westbury’s illustrious history for yourself.”

*****

Lucy-Felthouse-52

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women’s Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

****

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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Tied to the Kitchen Sink- A Little Cupboard BDSM

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August 31  |  eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Here I am, home from a wet and windy holiday, and ready to get back into routine- so ~I thought I’d kick off by sharing a little of my BDSM short story collection, Tied to the Kitchen Sink.

Tied to the Kitchen Sink

BLURB- Will can hardly believe his eyes when he receives the ultimate in birthday gifts. Karen, the girl of his fantasies, has been left tied to his kitchen sinks’ taps, ready to be played with exactly as he chooses. Meanwhile, Becky is having a spank filled first day in her new job, and a BDSM curious male allows himself to be lured into a dominatrix’s layer, by the tempting lyrics of a truly bad poem. Whether bound in ropes or handcuffs, as they are shackled to the bed, kitchen sink, or within the confines of a fetishists supply cupboard, the willing victims of Tied to the Kitchen Sinks’ kinky S&M and BDSM action, find their darkest and sexiest dreams coming true.

One of the elements of writing erotica that I enjoy the most is to take random mundane things, such as hairbrushes, books, chairs, or cardboard boxes, and give them far more interesting uses than the one they were designed for. With the three short stories tucked within the e-pages of my anthology, Tied to the Kitchen Sink, I had particular fun playing with this idea.

The use of a kitchen sink in the first (and title) story is far more interesting than just for washing up in! And in the final story, The Bad Poet, the implications hidden within a poorly written poem are played out over a small table and a bed that holds far more than sheets, pillows and a duvet!

It was with the middle story, Becky, which takes place in a very unusual office, where even the most minor mistake is punished by the BDSM obsessed boss and his secretary, Miss Harriet, that I had the most fun. Not only did I completely corrupt the use of blotting paper (no, I’m not going to tell you how!), but I totally rethought the type of items that might be found in an office stationery cupboard…

…It is an unusual cupboard. From floor to ceiling in height, it has an increased depth hidden behind its grey metal doors. The shelves that surrounded the walls are set well back so that at least two people could occupy the remaining space with the doors closed. On every shelf there was a collection of instruments; canes, whips, paddles, nipple clamps. There was all the necessary material to keep a correction freak going for years; ribbons, ropes, cuffs, chains, gags. The more you looked the more your heart froze and your eyes widened. Becky looked. Her face revealed nothing.

Miss Harriet had silently come out of her office. Without a word she stood behind Becky and helped her off with her remaining clothes. She was so beautiful. I realised I hadn’t really looked at Becky properly before. I already wanted to touch; I began to imagine her beating my breasts with a short stick, before soothing them with her tongue.

I came back to reality. Such feelings must not be displayed here. Becky was now just inside the cupboard doors, facing her audience. She seemed to shine. How had she got to this point so quickly? It had taken me many beatings before I had learnt to enjoy it, and even after nearly eighteen months I could never be so open about it. I still have the shame. Maybe I need it.

Becky stared through us as she looked straight ahead. Miss Harriet had taken one of her slim wrists and was tying it to a conveniently placed hook on one of the shelves with a silk cord. Then the other wrist was secured, then the ankles, and finally, a thin silver collar was snapped securely around her neck, its long leather lead dangling provocatively between her breasts.

Miss Harriet stepped out of the cupboard and looked to her boss for approval. He nodded. I could clearly see, when I dared to glance, that his dick was straining against his suit trousers. They shut the doors of the cupboard and we all heard Becky gasp. She had expected pain, arousal. They had given her nothing…

****

If you fancy discovering what that blotting paper was used for, just how awful my poetry can be, and exactly how the kitchen sink was misused, you can buy Tied to the Kitchen Sink at Amazon UK, Amazon.com, and all good e-retailers.

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Tied-Kitchen-Sink-BDSM-Erotica-ebook/dp/B008J46P1W/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391959394&sr=8-1&keywords=Tied+to+the+kitchen+sink+kay+jaybee

Amazon.com – http://www.amazon.com/Tied-Kitchen-Sink-BDSM-Erotica-ebook/dp/B008J46P1W/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1391959472&sr=8-1&keywords=Tied+to+the+kitchen+sink+kay+jaybee

Happy reading!

Kay xx

 

 

 

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A Little Holiday Reading…

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August 25  |  Book Publications, eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Hello lovely readers- I’m away on my holidays at the moment, so I thought I’d leave you with something nice to read while I’m away- fancy a trip to Tunisia?

Digging Deep Blurb-

Dr Beth Andrew’s first foreign excavation as a site leader, which she co-run’s with the American archaeologist Dr Harrison Harris, gets off to a shaky start due to the jealous interference of Harrison’s ex, and an overzealous student… Love and lust really can cloud even the cleverest person’s judgement!

***

Influenced by my own adventures as an archaeologist in Africa, Digging Deep is the second of my Carid stories for Xcite.

Digging Deep

Extract-

Hidden away in the garden at the rear of the house they were staying in, taking advantage of a few moments’ peace between the end of the morning’s digging and lunch, Harrison rested his back against the shaded trunk of a large-leafed palm tree. He’d told himself he was there so he could update his notes without being disturbed, but he knew he was really just avoiding Beth.

He screwed his eyes up against the ideas that seemed to circle on continuous loop through his head. She is a decade younger than me, lives in another continent, and is a colleague. So don’t even think about it! Determined not to contradict this train of thought with reminders of how badly he wanted to find out how far Beth’s freckles travelled across her body, what the spring of her russet ringlets would feel like in his fingers, or speculate about how she seemed to make him laugh even when the most ordinary words came out of her mouth in her cute English accent, Harrison had decided to keep as much distance between himself and Beth as possible. It would help if she wasn’t so damn good at her job.

He sighed hard. Work relationships were never a good idea – especially when they were only destined to work together for three months of the year! His year with Linda, Beth’s predecessor, had proved that. Anyway, such indiscretions were unprofessional, and Harrison had always prided himself on his professionalism.

As he urged himself to stop contemplating why Beth, in her multiple layers of clothing, felt more attractive to him than any of the semi-clad females who worked around the site, Harrison suddenly sensed that he wasn’t alone. Lifting his head from his notes, he saw Candida lounging against the wall on the opposite side of the dust-soiled garden.

His heart sank. Of all his students, she was the last person he felt like talking to. For a second, Harrison assumed she’d been looking for him, but swallowed a muted murmur of relief when she faced the other way, and tapped urgently against the touch screen of her phone.

Intent on staying focused on the report he was writing, Harrison sat silently against the side of the house, hoping that his student wouldn’t spot him. Bending his head to his work, Harrison snapped it up again as Candida’s grating voice echoed around the small, square garden.

‘Of course I’m not ignoring your calls.’

Raising his eyebrows, he immediately felt sorry for whoever was at the other end of the phone. Candida might well have been a sight for sore eyes with her rounded chest, flat stomach, and tanned legs that seemed to go on forever, but her voice was enough to scour the varnish off wood, and her “I’m beautiful and therefore you will love me” attitude was proof, if any was needed, that Candida Harker was Daddy’s little princess through and through. Not for the first time, Harrison cursed that the “daddy” in question was the owner of Harker International, the company providing most of the sponsorship for the dig, and so her presence on the team was secured each time Colorado University came to the site.

Harrison’s attempts to ignore the rest of her conversation were abruptly halted as Candida pronounced down the phone, ‘Well, you were right. She should have an eye kept on her. Who’d have thought it of someone so mousy and dull? I mean, she is so white and spotty she could be mistaken for the ghost of a leopard!’

There was a break from Candida’s high-decibel yakking, as whoever was on the other end of the call spoke, before she responded, ‘Well, yes, it seems she does have some sort of MILF quality. I tell you, no American guy would humiliate himself like that with anyone who wasn’t at least of goddess status. Which she most certainly is not! And not because he was in her debt!’

Trying not to care which of the English students Candida was ripping apart, and hoping like hell that everyone else was out of earshot of her diatribe, Harrison frowned as his student went on.

‘Supervisory skills? How the hell should I know? I’m on Harrison’s team, thank God. And will not be swapping under any circumstances.’

Harrison’s head jerked back up, his ears straining for information. Beth? She was bad-mouthing Beth. Why? He didn’t dare even rustle his papers, although he was sure Candida was so involved in her call that an entire herd of elephants could go by and she wouldn’t notice.

‘Yes, I know, but I don’t want …’

There was an odd hint of panic in his student’s voice now, and Harrison began to wish that the person on the other end of the phone was as loud as Candida, so he could hear whatever it was they were saying.

‘OK – well, I wasn’t going to tell you this …’

Like hell. Harrison recognised when Candida was building up to spill some slanderous scandal.

‘I don’t think it is her ability as an archaeologist that is in question. It is her relationship with her students. With one student in particular.’

A vision of Beth’s flushed face as she sat on Ryan’s lap, after the snake had frightened her, flashed through Harrison’s brain.

Candida was nodding in satisfaction, her previously concerned countenance replaced with one of smug relief. ‘Yes. Yes, that’s right.’

Harrison closed his eyes. Who the hell was on the end of that line? He gripped his papers, physically having to stop himself from getting up and ripping the cell phone from Candida’s hand so he could challenge the unseen recipient.

‘Well, OK, but it isn’t pretty.’ Candida paused as if for dramatic effect, as Harrison impatiently waited to hear what her coup de grâce against his colleague was going to be. A feeling of foreboding crept ever faster up his spine as he heard her say, ‘One of her students is fucking her in return for her silence.’

Harrison felt as though he’d swallowed an orange whole as a triumphant Candida went on. ‘Yes! Every day! Just so she won’t tell anyone he broke the mosaic he was excavating. Apparently, yesterday lunchtime Beth made Ryan beg! Can you credit it! She actually made him beg! And all that time the bitch was naked and getting a good time up on the open roof. Fuck! I mean, what would she have made him do if he’d smashed the whole thing, and not just crumbled the edge a bit?’

With the use of Beth’s name, the last vestige of hope that Harrison had been mistaken about what he’d heard evaporated. It isn’t true, he told himself. It can’t be – can it? But what is Candida up to? His appetite for lunch disappeared as, with morbid fascination, he continued to listen …

****

If you’d like to find out what happens next, then Digging Deep is available as a Cariad e-novella or paperback from –

***

Happy holidays!!

Kay xxx

 

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