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FREE READ-Chapter 1- Not Her Type

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July 5  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

Hello everyone. I’m rushed off my feet at the moment (Book tour with my Jenny Kane side). I thought I’d leave you a little something to read while I was away…

Happy reading…

Free Read – Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures of a Delivery Man

(copyright- Kay Jaybee and 1001NightsPress)

Young couple, isolated on grey background

 

Chapter 1

Tuesday – It Begins

What the hell am I doing? I’m a good girl; I just don’t do things like this.

A tiny fraction of Jenny’s conscience screamed at her. The remainder of her brain sent her hands on a thorough exploration of the densely haired chest that had unexpectedly appeared from beneath her companion’s polo-shirt. The fact that Jenny had never liked men with hairy chests seemed irrelevant.

Standing in front of her, diving a hand under Jenny’s top, John squeezed her left nipple hard, wonderfully hard, making her squeal with pain-tingling gratification. Removing her shirt at top speed, John freed her breasts from their confinement.

Moving as if on auto-pilot, Jenny’s fingers visited his trousers’ waistband, but in her haste she couldn’t get his belt undone. Rescuing her from her embarrassment with a smile, John mumbled something about it always being difficult to open and undid it himself. Jenny barely heard him as a neat pair of charcoal grey boxers appeared, swiftly followed by—Oh My God—the most beautiful dick she had seen in years, perhaps ever.

As she knelt before him, the voice in Jenny’s head continued its rant, reminding her that she hated giving blowjobs. Since her first experience as a college student, she had neither liked the taste of cock, nor the sensation of being gagged. Now however, working on instincts she never knew she had, Jenny took John deep within her throat. She felt his fingers drag urgently through her knotty, brown hair, raking her scalp as she greedily worked him around her mouth.

Sexy - hands on back

“Hell girl, have you any idea how often I’ve dreamt of you doing this?” John confessed. “Night after night I wank about you, about you holding me in your throat like this.”

Jenny was consumed with a perverse pride as she listened to John’s words—making her wonder if she should admit to the stolen moments she’d spent alone with a silver vibrator and her own filthy imaginings. Imaginings contrary to her normal fantasies; fantasies that often featured him.

His penis felt fantastic in her mouth, but the restless ache in Jenny’s pussy was becoming unbearable, and she pulled away, panting. The instant she let go of his shaft, John tugged her back to her feet and grasped her butt, kneading it in a way that would give her bruises for days to come, while kissing her as if his life depended on it.

Conveniently forgetting that she didn’t like the feel of stubble against her skin, Jenny relished the burn of his unshaven face grazing her, scraping her cheeks as their lips and teeth clashed together.

Her head buzzed, and her nipples were tickled by his chest hairs, and Jenny began to feel as if she were overdosing on desire. She badly wanted to slow everything down but, at the same time, she needed to go faster. She wasn’t far from climax, and the mere idea of their illicit situation was enough to send Jenny to the very edge of orgasm.

Recognizing how close she was, John shoved his customer’s knickers unceremoniously to her ankles. “I want to see you on your hands and knees,” he ordered.

Sinking against the carpet as instructed, Jenny’s breathing snagged as she heard the sharp rip of a condom packet being opened. Seconds later, Jenny found her courier’s thick cock sliding into her from behind. She was about to tell him how fantastically full she felt when John wiped all coherent thought from Jenny’s head by jamming his thumb up her arse.

Nuzzling his mouth against Jenny’s neck, John thrust against her, holding her hips as they frantically moved together. Trembling, Jenny’s knees began to buckle, and her elbows quaked. Seeing she was about to collapse to the floor, John eased out of her body, and flipped her onto her back, before plunging his dick inside her again. She clung onto his tattooed arms (ignoring her lifelong aversion to body art), relishing in the glorious warmth of her orgasm, as he shot his spunk into her naked body.

As soon as their breathing levels returned to normal, John knelt close to Jenny, teasing out the springy curls of her hair as he spoke, “I’m sorry Jen. I don’t like just walking out on you, but I have to go. I’m behind with my rounds.” Jenny watched her courier dress with lightning speed, leaving in a flurry of promises and assurances that he’d return the following week.

Not Her Type Brit Babe Rating

Not Her Type Brit Babe Rating

The living room seemed so large, so empty once John’s bulky frame had gone. Stunned and disheveled, Jenny stared at the space around her as delayed shock kicked in. How the hell had that happened?

 It had been years since Jenny had had sex. Twelve years, in fact; if you discounted one brief and unsatisfactory encounter that occurred three years ago. That was four thousand, three hundred, and eighty days of a self-imposed embargo after one-too-many broken hearts. She had survived by surrounding herself with friends, reading hundreds of erotica books, and giving in to countless masturbation sessions. But now, out of nowhere, right in the middle of her lounge,  , when she should have been sitting at her little desk checking other peoples’ accounts, she’d been thoroughly and expertly fucked.

Standing perfectly motionless, and very aware of her pulse pounding against her chest in the eerie quiet, Jenny tried to figure out what on earth had just happened. How their usual coffee break, with each of them sitting on either side of her dining table, had developed into a semi-naked romp on the sofa.

John had been in her home for only thirty minutes, and twenty of those had been spent discussing the DVDs that he’d come to deliver, just as he did every Tuesday. Then, he’d said something about how much he enjoyed their weekly chats, how hers was the only home where he was received as a friend, and how he always felt strange leaving her without so much as a hug.

Thinking back, trying to make sense of it all, Jenny thought that perhaps she’d laughed nervously when he’d said that, and told him she’d liked their “putting the world to rights” time as well.

That was when he’d actually hugged her for real, and she’d looked up into his wide, dark brown eyes and, in all of her thirty-three years, she had never felt a twist of lust like the one she felt then. It had burnt into her like some sort of erotic radiation.

How did I not see that coming? How bloody naive have I become? Jenny wondered. Shit, I don’t even know if he’s single…It’s been so long since I had a quick fuck. Too long…Hell, now I want another one, and soon. Damn.

Running upstairs to her bedroom, Jenny stripped off her hastily donned clothes and stared critically into the full-length mirror. Do I look different? No, my arms are still a touch too flabby, my backside a little too big, and my skin too pale.

She felt different though. A bit like the girl she used to be, when she’d been a student. When she’d been braver.

As Jenny carried on staring at her reflection, she allowed her hands to trace the outline of her body, a body that was already infused with the heady aftershocks of being totally seen to. Flashbacks of her past assailed her. Things she’d consigned to the back of her mind and nailed up into a little box, never to be opened again—parts of her life that she had long since given up on.

Losing all concept of time as she stood there, naked, still able to feel the mark of his fingers on her flesh, Jenny shook her head, trying to dismiss the memories that her body’s unscheduled reawakening had brought to the surface. She wondered just how many customers John had seduced with those dangerous eyes. How many other sets of fingertips had tripped lightly over the Japanese-styled characters tattooed on his muscular arms?

“Let’s face it,” she spoke sternly to her reflection, “that was just a one-off. Next week he’ll just want a quick coffee as usual.” Doing her best to pull herself together, Jenny unhooked her wrap from the back of her bedroom door. Heading to the shower, her wits were a tattered mass of contradictions—the elation she felt from the astounding sex was at odds with the very clear proclamation that was niggling at the back of her head. Jenny honey, he just isn’t your type. He isn’t even close!

If you want to know what happens next (and I can promise you one hell of a kinky ride), you can buy Not Her Type in either eBook or paperback form from….

Links-

Amazon UK – http://www.amazon.co.uk/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-ebook/dp/B00C8PDEE4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365345730&sr=8-1&keywords=Not+Her+TYpe+kay+jaybee 

Amazon.com – http://www.amazon.com/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-ebook/dp/B00C8PDEE4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1365345892&sr=8-1&keywords=Not+Her+Type+kay+jaybee

1001 NightsPress- http://1001nightspress.com/#!/page_KayJaybee

Happy Reading!!

Kay

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Some Wednesday on a Wednesday

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April 12  |  BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

I thought it would be nice to share a little from my newest novella, Wednesday on Thursday with you today – it is a Wicked Wednesday after all!

Wednesday on Thursday

Blurb

There are rumours that the coffee guy has “a thing” about words.

Shrugging off her friend’s concern about the way the man in the cafe stares at her every lunch hour, Wednesday can’t see how his love of words could possibly be hazardous.

The fact is, Wednesday rather enjoys being the centre of an attractive man’s undivided attention. His dark blue eyes alone have provided her with many delicious erotic fantasies, a welcome distraction from the pressures of the real world and a dull job.

It’s totally harmless…

…until there’s an accident with a cup of coffee.

After soaking Wednesday with a hot latte, the coffee guy’s attention suddenly becomes far more enticing—and dangerous.

Drawn into a bizarre world of human behavioural research, where crosswords are used to initiate sexual experiments, Wednesday finds herself driven, not by a desire to further scientific research, but by the need to be rewarded for her hard work by the coffee guy’s captivating research assistant.

A stunning redhead by the name of Thursday…

***

 

Extract from Wednesday on Thursday

… Wednesday had selected her clothes with more care than usual. She told herself she was wearing her best underwear because it gave her more confidence. It was absolutely not because she’d spent a largely sleepless night dreaming of the coffee guy’s expression as he ran his shrewd gaze over her jet black satin bra with matching knickers.

With one extra button open on her shirt, Wednesday left her flat, raking her hand restlessly through her long chestnut hair. She kept telling herself that he was just a bloke who got off on the power of making her feel sexy. That was perfectly all right by her, because he clearly had no intention of doing anything beyond titillating her imagination.

Wednesday had experienced her fair share of relationships during her twenty-nine years, but no-one had ever managed to arouse her with a single glance before.

‘For goodness sake, woman, you don’t even know his name!’ Even though she kept trying to talk sense into herself, the four hours until lunchtime couldn’t pass fast enough.

By the time her break finally arrived, Wednesday thought her heart was going to thud right through her chest with nervous tension. Walking into the café, she was more than usually aware of the sound of her heels clattering across the wooden floor.

Wednesday forced herself not to look for him, to just queue up for her latte and toasted sandwich as she always did. Even though she managed to prevent herself from obviously surveying the busy room, she covertly hunted for him nonetheless.

He wasn’t there. A sensation of disappointment gripped her. She felt stupid; humiliated even. But only briefly.

There was an envelope on her regular table.

Sitting down with her food and drink, Wednesday gaped at the cream coloured envelope. Her name was written in clear script across its front.

Wednesday took a soothing sip of her drink as she wondered if the coffee guy was hidden nearby. She had an uneasy feeling that, if he was secretly observing her, he’d be getting off on watching her reactions. Struggling to steady her erratic breathing, Wednesday was more than a little aware that her tits were doing their best to burst through their satin holster.

Exhaling slowly, she opened the envelope.

The words had an instant impact on her internal temperature gauge. Wednesday’s body began to alternate between flushing with heat and shivering with cold, as if she was getting a fever and a chill at the same time.

Dear Wednesday,

Forgive my rudeness for not having properly introduced myself before now.

My name is Lucas.

I will be blunt. I find you fascinating, and would like to make love to you. I would like to say my intentions are honourable, but they are not. They are lust-driven, and I feel it only fair you know that from the start.

If you are interested in knowing more, then please come to the address below once you have consumed your toasted sandwich. If you choose not to visit, then I will leave you in peace from this moment forward.

Whatever your decision, I would prevail upon you to keep this correspondence private.

Flat 1.

56 Chambers Way.

Regards,

L x

P.S. I apologise for the coffee incident. I trust I did not damage you. I will make the sincerity of my regret known to you should you decide to be my guest.

Wednesday didn’t finish her lunch.

Her legs had started taking her in the direction of Chambers Way without bothering to ask the rest of her if it was a good idea or not.

She knew the address.

The building, a private block of flats, was only two hundred metres from the office block where Wednesday had been employed as an administration clerk for the past two years.

Knowing she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t find out what was within Flat 1, with her pulse racing, Wednesday hovered outside a dark green front door.

A door that led to Lucas and whatever he planned to do by way of an apology.

Without allowing herself to think about what she was doing, Wednesday knocked twice…

***

Buy Links

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Wednesday-Thursday-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B01N5SOMT0/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1485329803&sr=8-1&keywords=Wednesday+on+Thursday+Kay+Jaybee

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N5SOMT0?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

 

Happy reading!

Kay x

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Halloween Release Blitz: Lily Harlem’s Take Me

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October 30  |  eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

New from Lily Harlem TAKE ME a super-sexy shifter story to spook up your Halloween!  Set in Ireland this paranormal tale will take you from the centre of Dublin and Temple Bar to the beautiful Wicklow Mountains. But watch out, there’s a cunning vampire about…

takeme

Back Cover Information

Megan’s weekend just took a dangerous, sexy turn…

What’s not to love about a girl’s weekend in Dublin? Megan Sanders loves being out on the town and out on the pull with her mates, but unfortunately, she’s attracted the attentions of a man with downright murderous intentions.

Seth Martin knows vampire Samuel Bennington is evil, and only his pack of elite wolf shifters can protect Megan. That is, if they can convince her that she needs their help.

Soon Megan finds herself caught up in a whirlwind of fear and lust. She’s being hunted for her blood, yes, but she’s also crazy about the guy who has sworn to protect her. But which man will win? Will her blood sate Bennington’s hunger, or will Seth remind her why it’s good to be alive, and give her pleasure beyond anything she’s known before?

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Excerpt

She stared at him, then, “Abraham is a shifter, isn’t he?”

Seth was silent.

“The wolves here looking after me are all shifters. They can switch between being human and animal. Don’t try and tell me they’re not.”

“What do you know about shifters?” He pressed his knuckles against his biceps, the muscles bulging.

“Only what I’ve read in books. That they’re humans who can turn into animals, that they have special powers.”

“Special powers?”

She swallowed. This was getting more surreal by the hour. “Will you just tell me the truth?”

He said nothing.

“Seth.”

He clamped his lips together.

“Goddammit.” She stepped up to him. “Don’t you think I deserve the truth? I’m a sitting duck. There is nothing but a few doors and bolts between me and a supernatural murderer who is out to get me. I’m being pretty calm all things considered, but this…” She banged her fist on his shoulder. “Tell me the truth.”

He didn’t budge but shook his head slightly.

“Don’t do that. Don’t say no. Tell me.” She whacked him again, harder this time. Fear, anger, and frustration warred within her. Her sanity was slipping as was her ability to maintain a brave face. If Seth couldn’t be honest with her—the man who’d fucked her not long ago, who’d said he’d die for her, who she’d entrusted with her life— then what did she have left?

Tears sprang into her eyes, making them prickle. Her throat tightened and a sob bubbled up from her chest.

She banged him again, with both fists this time.

“Hey.” He grabbed her wrists.

She tried to pull free but it was to no avail. “Megan, calm down.”

His words had no effect. She had to get out of there. What the hell was going on? She was a prisoner.

“Megan, please, stop.” He trapped her wrists in just one of his hands and pulled her close so her head was beneath his chin. “Calm the hell down. This isn’t helping anything.” He tightened his free arm around her body.

“No, but…I need to know, I need you…to be honest…with me.” She screwed up her eyes. In spite of her frustration she sagged against him. “I might die. This is my life. I need to know what’s going on.”

“I know.” He leaned back a fraction.

She looked up at him as a tear escaped from her right eye, and trickled down her cheek.

“Can you handle the truth?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Can you keep a secret? An ancient secret that very few humans have ever been told?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

He pulled in a breath. “In that case, yes, Abraham is a shifter. The wolf you saw, that was him, in his other body.”

She nodded. A sense of relief washed through her. Far from being worried or scared, the knowledge was a comfort. It confirmed that she wasn’t going mad. Her imagination wasn’t running away with itself. She wasn’t adding up two and two and making five.

He stroked his hand over her hair. “How do you feel now I’ve told you?”

She nodded. “Better. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Well, that goes both ways. You’re trusting us, a lot.”

“I know, but I believe in you.” She paused. “And Nia, she’s a shifter too?”

“Yes.” A muscle flexed in his jaw. It was clear he wasn’t used to talking about theshifters.
Megan looked into his dark eyes; his long lashes cast shadows on his cheeks and his messy black fringe hung forward.

“Are you a shifter?” she asked quietly.

His eyes narrowed a little. “What would you say if I was?”

“I’d say thank you for saving me, in the alley.”

He pulled in a breath, his nostrils flaring. “That was a close call.”

“It was.” She tugged her wrists to free them from his grasp.

He released her.

“And if you hadn’t been there…” She pressed her hands to his cheeks, his thick stubble tickling her palms. “I wouldn’t be standing here now. I’d be a murder victim.”

He kissed her, hard and quick. “Shh, don’t talk about that.”

“It’s hard not to think about it.”

“I don’t want you to. I want you to feel safe, to feel cared for when you’re with me.”

“I do.” She paused. “So, you are a shifter.”

“You know what?” His eyes narrowed.

“What?”

He paused, then, “I’m hungry, like really fucking hungry.”

“Wolf’s appetite, huh?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, something like that.” He grinned suddenly. “Come on, let’s make food. I’ve used up a lot of energy this evening.”

“Bedroom energy.” She stepped back and released him.

“Yeah, and I’d like some more bedroom action later if that’s okay with you.”

“I’m sure it can be arranged.”

***

Buy Links

ARe

Amazon

Amazon UK

iBooks

Kobo

lily-harlem

Find out more about Lily Harlem on her website

 

 

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Upping Production

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August 27  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

Frankly I’m not writing as much erotica as I used to these days. This is partly because the ‘other’ me, Jenny Kane, sells heaps more books and I have a mortgage to pay- and partly because I’ve been around so long.  I didn’t want to get to the point where I heard my readers declare that everything I wrote was the same.

same old

This is a damming accusation I’ve heard levelled at many writers- sometimes justifiably- and I’d hate to hear it about my own work. (If you so think all my work is the same, be kind and DON’T tell me!!) It’s one thing to have a recognised style, but another to write the same story over and over again, simply changing the character names and locations….

Lately however, I’ve been open to many new influences (my lips are sealed), and so I’ve been upping the smutty production again!

I’m thrilled to have a forthcoming short story, set in an African quarry, called Brick Dust, coming out in the next edition of Best Woman’s Erotica of the Year Vol 2.

BWE2016 Vol2

I’ve also been working on two news short stories for another anthology…details soon…And a brand new novella!

I’m not going to reveal too much about this new book  yet…but I can tell you that it’s a MFF tale based around a man’s fascination (obsession) with the human reaction to certain words…

Watch this space…

Happy reading,

Kay xx

 

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My First Time: H K Carlton

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August 24  |  Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, Interview  |   Kay Jaybee

It’s interview time again folks. In the hot seat- revealing her ‘First Time’ – is my lovely friend in erotica H K Carlton. Why not join us for a cuppa and a chat?

First Time

Can you remember writing the first story you actually wanted to write, rather than those you were forced to write at school? What was it about?

The first story I remember writing, funnily enough was probably an erotic story, or at least as risqué as a girl can get at fourteen. It was nothing more than a fantasy about a friend of my brothers. As I recall, it was the first time I used the word cock. How scandalous! It wasn’t a word I was allowed to use. Not that a young lady of that age should be using certain words but I came from a fairly strict and somewhat religious household and certain things were not to be said let alone written.

Unfortunately, I shoved the unfinished story, under my bed and one day while vacuuming, my mum found it. Sex of any kind was not discussed in that house.  Instead of addressing the issue with me, for some unknown reason, my mother turned it over to my holier-than-thou older sister who took great pleasure in handing my pitiful little blue-lined sheets with the dirty words on them, back to me, all crumbled from the run-in with the vacuum hose. I remember she said, “Mom found these,” with a sanctimonious smirk on her face. I was so embarrassed. They’d obviously read it. In tears, I tore it up and I never wrote another story, not even ‘acceptable’ ones, outside of schoolwork, while I still lived under my parent’s roof. Sadly, that was the end of my writing for many years before I found the courage to try again.

On a happier note, I do recall writing a story for grade 8 creative writing class, that did not feel like an assignment at all. I had such a ball writing it. It was one of those times when my pencil couldn’t keep up with my thoughts. It was the first time I’d ever earned an A++. Hell, I believe it was the only time. LOL. I was extremely proud, especially when the teacher’s comments were complimentary and encouraging. Eleven pages of foolscap. Anybody remember that stuff? J It was about a stolen ring. I still remember the title, The Winkwaddle Detective Agency. I’m off to copyright that right now! J

What was your first official publication? Was that erotica?

My first book was entitled Swap, an erotic contemporary romance for Totally Bound, about a woman who had the hots for her hunky brother-in-law. I had two submissions out at that time, to two different publishers. Swap, to TB, and a historical romance with another publisher. Happily, both were accepted within weeks of each other.

I had no idea I’d be an erotica writer- it just came from nowhere! Was writing erotica something you intended to do, or was it a bit of a shock?

It was a total shock for me as well, especially after the bumpy start. I never thought being a published author was in the cards for me, regardless of genre. When I finally found the courage to write again, I did it for me with no intention of doing anything with it. My head was so full, I had to get it down on paper and out of my mind. When I finished, I didn’t feel like it was half bad. So, I did a whole lot of research and started fumbling my way through the process.

I intended to write historical romance because it was the genre I loved reading most, at the time. I’ve penned a few historical romances, but even they push the line of what true historical romance readers want to read. The sex scenes are a bit too explicit even if the language is tamed.

In Lost Time, I was able to combine both my loves—the historical elements along with erotic romance. To this day, it is still one of my favourites.

losttime_postcard

What affect did that have on your life?

I’m busier and have had to figure out how to budget my time between work and real life. But I’ve also kept my writing a secret from the majority of my family and that can be tricky at times when deadlines and release dates loom. Of course, my husband and kids know. My three children are extremely supportive and proud of me. I’ve always encouraged them to follow their dreams and they are happy for me that I’ve gone after mine. My closest sister (I have two, this one is not to be confused with the censorial one :p) has always been my champion and confidante. She was one of the first people I told when I began sending out submissions. But I have kept this secret from my mother, out of respect for her beliefs, and from my other siblings. I can only imagine my oldest sister’s smirk now, if she found out about my dirty little secret. LOL. Though perhaps now, the joke’s on her. 😉

Does your first published story reflect your current writing style?

I find this a hard question to answer at the moment. I’ve been going through a bit of a rough patch, writing lately. It’s not writer’s block, the ideas are there, but I feel as though I’m all over the place and second guessing everything. But then again, perhaps that does reflect my writing style. Though when I look back at my first publication Swap, I wonder if that wasn’t a more genuine HK than some of the things I’ve been writing recently.

What are you working on at the moment?

At the moment, I have several things on the go, including a sequel to Lost Time —though I have been working on it for years—It just hasn’t come together to my liking yet. I’d also like to continue Miranda and Jordan’s story, from Next Weekend, about a couple who discover a little something new about one another. One small problem, they are in the midst of divorce proceedings.

AdrenalineLust_FB

I’m also looking forward to starting edits on an m/m, erotica, gay-for-you story, Adrenaline Lust, that has been contracted to eXtasy Books. Also in the past week or so, I’ve finished final edits for an f/f erotic short story, entitled In the Flesh, which will be included in the Ladies Only anthology for Pride Publishing.

 

 

Author Links

Blog http://pickagenrealready.blogspot.ca

Twitter https://twitter.com/authorhkcarlton

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/authorhk.carlton

Amazon http://viewAuthor.at/HKCarlton

Goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6544863.H_K_Carlton

***

Buy Links

Lost Time

Totally Bound https://www.totallybound.com/book/lost-time

Amazon  http://getBook.at/LT

Pre-Order Ladies Only Anthology

Pride Publishing  https://www.pride-publishing.com/book/ladies-only

Amazon http://myBook.to/LOantho

Adrenaline Lust – Coming soon Add to your wish list http://www.extasybooks.com/adrenaline-lust/ EXtasy Books

***

Thank you so much for such a great- and heartbreakingly honest – interview. I can’t imagine who awful you must have felt to have your earliest work mocked. I take my hat off to you for trying again later.

Also- I want you to write that detective book!!

Happy reading,

Kay x

 

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