Hot Highlander Anyone?

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November 7  |  Book Publications, eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Today I delighted to be able to bring you a HOT extract from the new Cleis Press anthology Hot Highlanders and Wild Warriors: Erotic Romance for Women – edited by Delilah Devlin


This excerpt is from “To Love A King’s Man” by Emma Jay…

“A knock on the door startled him. He turned to see a copper tub edging into the room, borne by two strapping lads, followed by three maids, all lugging steaming pots of water. The boys set the tub by the fire, and the young women filled it, watching him through their lashes. All but one, who met his gaze straight on. He wondered if she’d be the one to bathe him.

His loins stirred at the thought. She was a pretty thing, and bold. He liked a bold woman in bed. He opened his mouth to send the others off when the door opened and Evanna stepped in, a towel draped over her arm, a basket in her hand.

When last he’d seen her, she’d been all legs and arms, so scrawny a good wind could blow her away, her hair wild down her back. She’d run after his horse the day he’d left, tears streaming down her cheeks. Now she was a woman grown, her expression serene, her hair confined in a net at the back of her head, a net he suddenly wanted to toss away. He blamed the errant thought on his earlier arousal. She was his hostess and the sister of his best friend.

His gaze drifted over Evanna’s simple dress, the soft fabric following the lines of her body, curving over her full breasts, hugging her trim waist. The shape of her body was imprinted on him since he’d held her against him on the stairs.

She dismissed the servants with a word, and they were alone, the only sounds the crackling of the fire and his pulse beating in his ears.

Impossible, since all his blood now pooled between his legs.

She set the basket on the chair by the fire. Soap and other supplies peeked out. “You don’t mean to bathe me.”

“It’s my duty.”

“Evanna, it’s not… I’m bastard born.”

“And a champion to the king. I’m honored to do it.”

He blew out a laugh. “It is…odd.” She’d been just a girl, and now she was his hostess.

“But not distasteful, I hope.”

The baldness of her words shocked him into stillness.

“You won’t be the first man I’ve bathed. I am a widow.”

He’d known her husband, the old lecherous bastard, about the size of one of Conal’s arms, and with half the number of Conal’s teeth. Conal doubted the old man had shown his young wife the pleasures that could be had between a man and a woman.

The pleasures Conal wanted to show her. If he took off his clothes in his current state, his intentions would be clear.

How would she react? The way she watched him now, he couldn’t be sure…


You can buy Hot Highlanders in e-book and paperback format from all good retailers including-

Here are the buy links:

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xx



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Bouncing on the Springs

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November 4  |  Book Publications, eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

I have written over a hundred short erotic stories over the years, but I think one of the most unusual has to be The Mattress

Smut Alfresco

Here’s the blurb!

From the dramatic gritstone escarpments of Derbyshire’s Peak District, to a quiet caravan site in deepest Wales, Smut Alfresco has it all. Whatever your interpretation of frisky outdoor fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Sexy woodsmen, daring couples, rock stars, cougars, map enthusiasts, mattresses, ex-lovers, tour guides, hunky sheriffs and nature reserve rangers all appear in this hot collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.


One of the main challenges for erotica writers- especially now there are more of us than ever before, and the market is experiencing a glut of new publications- is to find a new angle from which to approach each and every project.

The idea for The Mattress came to me months before I’d actually worked out how to commit it to paper. I confess, although I was fairly sure the concept was a sound one, that I had several false starts before the story came out as I wanted it to. However I tried to begin with, I couldn’t stop the story sounding like a list of body parts bumping- never good!

Written from the perspective of an old mattress that has been unceremoniously dumped at the side of the road, The Mattress tells us about some of the humans that have had sexual adventures on its back, twanged its springs, and bounced against its bulk in the great outdoors… It seems that even mattresses can have a colourful past!


This is how it starts…

The way the two women sniggered as they spotted me lying on the ground, made me sure they hadn’t expected their walk to produce such a convenient opportunity to fuck.

From the scent of them, I’d say they’d been drinking cocktails. The mildly sickly scent of boozy peach and mango fruit clung to them, suggesting they’d partaken of enough alcohol to be without inhibition, but not enough to be without decision making abilities.

The minute they saw me, cast aside, damaged and unwanted amongst a pile of autumn leaves at the edge of a wood, they knew what they wanted to do, and their giggling became laced with purpose.

 Somehow, during the periods of inaction between eventful episodes of accidental discovery by passersby, I’ve almost blended into the landscape, forming a hinterland of sexual promise between the woods to my right, and a farmer’s field to my left. However, like so many of my opportune visitors, these young ladies didn’t care that a number of my springs were poking out of my sides, or that nights and days of rainfall had given me the musty aroma of the trees that surround me.

            You could see the need for sex burn in the women’s matching green eyes. I’d know that look anywhere. I used to see in the old days when I’d been working as half of a partnership. ‘Mattress and bed!’ What a team we’d formed when we’d resided together in a cheap hotel in town. Couple after couple would visit me and my divan support back then, in a “rent me by the hour” sort of a way. I miss that life. I miss making people happy. I miss fulfilling my purpose properly.

            I think my latest visitors must have been together for a while. The way they regarded each other spoke volumes. I could read many nights of tender love etched across their faces; but the way their hands attacked each other’s clothes made me wonder if it was their very first time in the great outdoors.

I relished the weight of their bodies as they climbed aboard me, kicking off their shoes. I sighed beneath them as they dropped to their knees; emerald gaze locked into jade gaze; turquoise painted fingernails eager at oversized jumpers. Despite the November chill, in their keenness to reach the bare skin hidden beneath the necessary winter layers, they removed their tops, recklessly laying them on the leaf cracklingly frosty ground.

            The taller of the girls had sleek long brunette hair, and as her bottle red headed companion murmured gently against her neck, I learnt her name was Yasmin.

Yasmin’s body radiated desire as her nameless girlfriend bought ruby lips to her right breast, making her squeal and chuckle, as her buttocks clenched within her denims upon my aged buckled surface…


If you’d like to know what other adventures my poor discarded mattress witnessed, and read some excellent tales by our host Bel Anderson, Tilly Hunter, Tenille Brown, Cass Peterson, Wendi Zwaduk, Jenny Lyn, Demelza Hart, Violet Fields, KT Red, Nicole Gestalt, Jacqueline Brocker, Victoria Blisse (ed), and Lucy Felthouse(ed), then you can buy Smut Alfresco at…


All Romance EBooks –

…and all other good retailers.

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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Kay’s Collector

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November 2  |  Book Publications, eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

I think it’s true to say I get my ideas and inspiration from anywhere and everywhere. In the case of The Collector, my very first solo work, the initial idea came to me while sat in the departures lounge of Heathrow airport awaiting a flight to Aberdeen. One of my oldest friends had just phoned me to tell me about an article in The Observer newspaper all about erotic writers. He was adamant the time was right for me to branch out from short stories and to try a book all of my own.


The Collector sits silently alone, engrossed in her tales of lust, submission and dominance. Has she already engraved your erotic exploits on her salacious list?

She may look like she is scribbling randomly in her notebook, but she is secretly listening to, and recording, the overheard fantasies and indiscretions of others.

Forever hungry for stories, when The Collector’s sources run dry, her appetite for tales of instruction and voyeurism drives her to do some research of her own before sharing her provocative experiments on paper.

It is time for the world’s raunchiest chronicler to come to light.


I admit the idea of writing a novel about one set of characters was rather daunting in those early days of my erotica career, although I’ve written 9 erotic novels and novellas since then. (The Perfect Submissive Trilogy The Voyeur, Making Him Wait, A Sticky Situation, The Circus, Digging Deep and Not Her Type)

As I sat in the airport that day, watching people rush around, I began to think about what stories they would all have to tell if I was brave enough to ask them…

Then I began to listen to what people were talking about on the chairs around me. I watched how people behaved, and then I started to write it all down… The Collector was born.

Here’s little snippet for you- Do you like liquorice?


‘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 buy The Collector from-

Amazon UK – –

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xx

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An Erotic Halloween

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October 31  |  Book Publications, eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Happy Halloween!!!


October is the time of the year when the Ancient Gaels believed the fabric between the worlds of the living and the worlds of the dead thinned, and broke open, so that on Samhain- later known as All Hallows Eve, and then Halloween, evil spirits would be released into the world, spreading pestilence and plague.

To ward off these forces of evil, huge bonfires were lit, and people dressed up in frightening masks to scare the spirits away, and therefore keep themselves, their families and their harvests safe.

It was also thought at this time when, if an offering of some burning hay was held up to the heavens, then souls trapped in purgatory could be freed.
trick or treat

Okay- enough of the history lesson! I could go on, and on, and on about the history behind Halloween…But that’s not why you stopped by today! You came to see what I could offer to tease and perhaps even scare you!

I’m not known for writing paranormal stories, but hey- for you guys, I’ll do anything (well, almost!!)

So here’s a little taster from a special one off short story called Blinked


(copyright Kay Jaybee 2013)

Human minds are so unimaginative, so closed. There’s usually a soft blue glow surrounding them. Not this one.

The taste around him was sharper, it tingled against my skin, zesty with an edge of…what to call it? To say it felt sulphuric would suggest it was accompanied by an unpleasant odour, but that wasn’t the case. The aroma emanating from this human was irresistible, yet it was oddly metallic in its intensity, in its bitter tang, in its…

He turned and looked directly at me, cutting off my line of thought. I was startled by the piercing nature of his deep brown eyes, and began to wonder if he already knew, if he could tell what I was?

The hairs on the back of my neck bristled beneath my red ponytail. He really was something different. My green eyes narrowed, my heart-rate, always rapid, increased further, and I felt the familiar swell of my chest and a twitch at my crotch as I observed him watching me.

Mentally I admonished myself. There was no way he could possibly know.

The hum and buzz of the bar faded to a mere background annoyance. He should have come to me by now. Impatience rose in my throat. This was unsettlingly strange. My quarry usually comes to me as soon as my craving for them enters my psyche. It’s part of the power; an automatic response. I want them, so they want me; madly, insanely, and without a hint of uncertainty, for the desire was all. The desire IS all. Hunger, sex, success, power and control. Without them the blood I crave is simply a nice warm drink.

My senses constricted further, tuning out the other drinkers. Confusion edged uninvited into the corner of my brain. Conquest should be easy. Then the small part of me that remembered what it was like to be human, reminded me that sometimes the pursuit was as exciting as the capture. Yeah, right!

I went to him, my head held high, my pony tail swinging purposefully behind my back. His lack of instant obedience wasn’t my failure, it was his, and he would pay for such insolence.

Essential need had taken me over, and as my breasts pushed against the satin of my black bustler, and the thud behind my ribcage became louder, I stood only inches away from him. Then instinct took over, and I moved in for the kill. My eyes, blazing dangerous lust, met his without flinching, without wavering, without blinking.

He blinked. That was when I knew I’d won. That whatever strange game he thought he’d been playing, it was already over. He blinked, and I didn’t. He had a weakness I had long since cast off. Simple.

We didn’t speak. I just nodded and turned around, walking purposely towards the exit, my hips swaying, my tight leather mini-skirt revealing the tops of my stockings and the contours of my backside. I could already taste his drooling mouth as he picked up the bag that had sat at his feet, and followed me, finally my slave.

His mind had cleared of the haze that had first kept me away. All he thought now was of his need, the need to fuck. To fuck me.

I kept walking. I didn’t look back, I knew he was there. I could smell the chemically caustic edge of his presence, even if I couldn’t see him.

My flat, small and obsessively neat, was only a short walk from the bar. I unlocked the front door and pointed inside, watching as he followed the line of my finger with his eyes, before obeying the unspoken request and entering the dark hallway.

Locking the door behind me, I led him to the bedroom, and began to unbutton the studs that held my top together down my right hand side, enjoying the sight of his wide hungry eyes and his parted lips. Hell, he was virtually panting like a dog.

Dropping my bustler to the ground, I showed him I wore no underwear beneath, and that my tits were more than ready for his touch. He was clearly in need too. The bulge beneath his denims was all but breaking out on its own. I smiled, but did nothing about his growing discomfort, instead, I commanded him to remove his black t-shirt. My crotch gave a twitch of anticipation as he obeyed without question.

I admired the torso before me, the beautifully thick neck, its veins running blue, pulsing slightly just below the surface. I would visit that neck soon; linger over it, but not yet. I had learnt to be disciplined, that the wait for the kill was more fun than the moment itself. For once the second of victory came, it was soon over, and then the hunt would have to begin again.

Walking around my guest in a wide circle I nodded in approval. His head turned with me, his brown eyes never leaving my chest, his mouth watering. This was obedience.

Beneath his left shoulder blade there was a small tattoo. It was a black Celtic cross. I moved closer, and with a single blood red fingernail traced its outline. A sudden chill engulfed me, but that was all. I didn’t disappear in a puff of smoke. I wasn’t reduced to a pile of ash upon the floor. Religious symbols versus the vampire. The vampires won that battle years ago. We are simply too strong to be beaten that easily.

I felt his flesh quiver beneath my touch, but to his credit he didn’t move, although his breathing did quicken, and the gleam in his eyes said more about his requirements than any words could have expressed.

The air between us began to change as his aura altered. The sulphuric tang was evaporating and red hot chemical desire had taken its place. Still not quite what I’d have expected from the average human, but this guy was so together, literary pulsating sex; he was everything I wanted.

From nowhere, I heard my mother’s shrill voice from centuries ago, telling me not to play with my food. A disobedient child to the last, I began to do just that, and ran my tongue up and down his back in long languid strokes. As I savoured the salty sweat against my taste buds, my self-control began to wane, and I felt the yearning for blood creep up my spine, heightening my senses further, clouding my eyes so that they are but a black focused fog, taking in nothing but my victim and the overriding longings of my body.

I tore off his remaining clothes with a speed that was beyond mortal, clawing them so they lay in mere shreds upon the floor.  At that moment his semi-hypnotised state broke, and with a hunger I would normally only associate with the un-dead, he returned my urgency with fervour. Peeling off my tight skirt and boots, a flick of his brown eyes showed brief pleasure at my lack of knickers, as I pushed him back onto the bed.

If he was surprised by my strength then he didn’t show it. His heavy masculine aroma, his lust, intoxicated me as I sat astride him, impaling myself to the hilt. Rocking back and forth, and sliding up and down in alternative motions, I revelled in the expression on his face. His eyes closed in concentration, as I snaked my right hand beneath us, and stuffed two sharp fingernails up his arse, making him yelp in surprise.

I tore off his remaining clothes with a speed that was beyond mortal, clawing them so they lay in mere shreds upon the floor.  At that moment his semi-hypnotised state broke, and with a hunger I would normally only associate with the un-dead, he returned my urgency with fervour. Peeling off my tight skirt and boots, a flick of his brown eyes showed brief pleasure at my lack of knickers, as I pushed him back onto the bed.

If he was surprised by my strength then he didn’t show it. His heavy masculine aroma, his lust, intoxicated me as I sat astride him, impaling myself to the hilt. Rocking back and forth, and sliding up and down in alternative motions, I revelled in the expression on his face. His eyes closed in concentration, as I snaked my right hand beneath us, and stuffed two sharp fingernails up his arse, making him yelp in surprise…


So where can you read the rest of this tale?

Gratis cover2-smash-150x150

It is tucked away inside the FREE anthology, Gratis: Midwinter Tales


Happy Halloween Reading,

Kay xx

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Guest Post by Lily Harlem: Have You Been Bitten Yet?

October 28  |  eBooks, News  |   Kay Jaybee

It’s almost Halloween, so why not sit down and indulge your reading muscles in some steaming paranormal erotica? And who better to provide you with some sexy shivers, shocks and shimmers than my good friend, and fellow Brit Babe, Lily Harlem? Over to you Lily…


Have You Been Bitten Yet?

Thanks so much for inviting me over today, Kay. I’ve brought with me some hot vampires and seriously sexy shifters! My two newest releases are Bite Mark and Claw Mark – do read Bite Mark first! – and I’m very excited about my first dally into paranormal erotic romance. I’ve mixed my supernatural heroes with one of my other favourite sub genres – ménage a trois – because I’m never one to say three is a crowd! Right since the start of my writing career throwing a plus one into the bedroom has been a bit of a habit of mine.


bite mark

There is something about ménage a trois relationships that really sparks my imagination. I love the dynamics and the endless possibility for conflicts, sexy positions and happy ever after’s. Throw in fangs and claws and I had a great time writing these books, I hope you’ll check them out.



Bite Mark

Life in London as a butcher girl is hard enough, but when my best friend Denny went missing it became miserable. So stumbling into the Worshipful Company of the Ancient Order while searching for him was like a breath of fresh air. Especially because sexy, sophisticated Aimery promised to help me. But Aimery’s friend Ryle wanted in on the action. My head was spinning, my body reacting to theirs whenever they were around. But I had questions: What was their obsession with my rare blood type? How did they always appear when I needed them? And how old were they? Learning the truth about my lovers brought new fears and delights. They could take me higher than I’d ever gone before, show me pleasures I’d never imagined and were prepared to kill to protect me. Being mortal had never been so much erotic fun—or so deliciously dangerous.


claw mark small


Claw Mark

This book is a sequel to Bite Mark; to ensure full enjoyment of this book, please read Bite Mark first.   Being married to two sexy vampires is as exciting as it is dangerous. One minute I’m on top of the world, the next I’m running for my life. But it’s okay with Aimery and Ryle at my side—they’ve sworn to love and protect me and keep me satisfied until I’m old and tray. But when everything crashes down, literally, I can see no way out of the darkness—death my best option. Until two unusual men come bounding to my aid. Gentle Caleb and prickly Isaac have secrets. They’re full of passion, desire, love and lust and their isolated lives are weaved with mystery. But I know what they are. I’m also craving some serious satisfying, a distraction from my dilemma, and it seems these guys are up for the job. Will my life always be turbulent, terrifying and tempting beyond belief? Nothing is certain in a world of vampires and shifters.

Buy Links Bite Mark

Ellora’s Cave


Amazon UK


Claw Mark  

Ellora’s Cave


Amazon UK



Lily Bio

Lily Harlem lives in the UK and is an award-winning, best-selling author of contemporary erotic romance. She writes for publishers on both sides of the Atlantic including Ellora’s Cave, HarperCollins, Totally Bound, Xcite and Sweetmeats Press.

Her Hot Ice series regularly receives high praise and industry nominations.

Before turning her hand to writing Lily Harlem worked as a trauma nurse and her latest HarperCollins release, Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse, draws on her many experiences while nursing in London. Lily also self-publishes and The Glass Knot and Scored have been blessed with many 5* reviews since their release in 2012.

Her novel, Breathe You In, a super-sexy romance with a twist that will not only heat you up but stay with you for years to come, was named a USA Today Reviewer’s Recommended Read of 2013.

Lily also co-authors with Natalie Dae and publishes under the name Harlem Dae – check out the Sexy as Hell Box Set available exclusively on Amazon – The Novice, The Player and The Vixen – and That Filthy Book which has been hailed as a novel ‘every woman should read’. One thing you can be sure of, whatever book you pick up by Ms Harlem, is it will be wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!

Lily Links  
Facebook author page
Raw Talent
Hockey Romance
Newsletter Subscription
Hot Ice
Harlem Dae


Many thanks Lily,

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xx

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