romance

Finger Music: A taste of Kay

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June 24  |  Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

If you’ve never read any of my work before, then The Best of Kay Jaybee is just the right place to start before you venture on to discover my novellas and novels.

Here’s a taster from Finger Music for you…

Finger Music

The subdued light of the room reflected off the whitewashed brick walls, gathering in one bright spot on the polished floorboards. In the centre of the glow, a pair of oversized brogues were firmly planted either side of a long metal spike; a spike that, as Sally’s eyes slowly rose, turned out to be attached to a double bass. The first member of the jazz trio hired to play in the bar where she worked that evening had obviously arrived early to rehearse.

It wasn’t the presence of the single musician that halted Sally on her way to the staffroom, but the sound he was creating. The wooden panels beneath her feet resounded to the rhythm, humming against her trainers, as she stood transfixed.

Ignorant of even basic jazz, Sally watched as the man played, his bulk equal to the challenge of supporting the instrument, his eyes tightly closed, lost in his music as his digits danced up and down the fret with a speed and agility that belied his thick fingers. And yet, as she watched, Sally realised she’d been quite wrong. This man wasn’t bulky; he was simply tall, fit and immensely strong. A flicker of unexpected electricity climbed up her spine.

With his eyes still shut, a patina of perspiration gathered across his forehead as his fingers increased speed with the tempo of the music.

Sally pushed her back to the door and, bending her knees, slid quietly to the floor, her eyes never leaving those nimble fingers. Vaguely aware that she had never witnessed anything as erotic as those smooth digits as they skilfully played, Sally began to wonder how else he might employ such dexterity.

The tune he’d been playing morphed seamlessly into another, slower this time, calmer, a more sensual glide taking over from the heady yet graceful hammering of the previous melody. Sally glanced up at his face, suddenly realising where she was; sitting on the hard wooden floor, half an hour before the bar opened. Her manager, fellow waiting staff, and the other members of the jazz group could walk in at any moment, expecting Sally to have everything all set up for the evening ahead.

Although his eyes remained shut, Sally felt caught out. She didn’t know if the man was aware of her presence or not. Scrabbling back to her feet, she tried to shake off the hypnotic beat that resonated in her ribcage and between her legs. Trying to stop herself allowing her imagination to mentally replace the double bass fingerboard with her own spine, Sally self-consciously began to edge toward the staffroom door.

‘Did you like it?’

His voice was almost as deep as the notes he’d been playing, and seemed to echo into the abruptly quiet space.

‘I … um … yes …’ Sally felt an uncharacteristic blush cover her usually pale cheeks. ‘I hope you didn’t mind me listening.’

‘That is what I’m here for.’

Already aroused by her fantasies about his manual dexterity, Sally felt a further tug at her crotch as his right eyebrow lifted, and a blast of searing-eyed mischief scorched her.

‘Oh yeah, right.’ Her limbs felt awkward and clumsy in the presence of his obvious confidence. It was as if he knew what he’d done to her. As if he’d summed up her physical condition in just one look.

From nowhere, Sally remembered a line in a book she’d once read that had made her scoff: “it was as if he could see right into her soul”. At that moment it didn’t seem like the romantic clap-trap she’d taken it for. It felt hot and real, and the black cups of her satin bra no longer felt big enough to contain their contents.

‘Would you like to try?’ He gestured to both Sally and the double bass in one go, by tilting the instrument in her direction.

‘Um …I …’ Sally’s throat seemed to have dried in upon itself, but her feet shuffled toward him anyway, her eyes glancing between the entrance to the staffroom and the door that led back into the main bar. ‘I should be getting the room ready for your gig; the others will be here very soon’

‘There’s plenty of time.’ Dismissing her task as unimportant, he grasped her wrist and smiled. Immediately Sally felt his pulse match her own, as he stood her so she was sandwiched between the double bass and his body. As his arms passed around her waist she inhaled his intoxicatingly musky odour, her head filled with sudden flashes of a love scene from the film Ghost. She really hated that film. A giggle escaped Sally’s lips.

Ignoring her nervous laughter, he said, ‘You need to place your fingers like this -’ He splayed his hand and rested it over her chest, making Sally take a sharp intake of breath.

Huskily she spoke. ‘You seem to have missed the double bass.’

‘Basics first, honey.’

Sally’s sense of humour and feelings of uncertainty escaped in a further strangled chuckle.

‘Are you ticklish?’ He moved his hands gently, fixing them upon her firmly, as if holding a set of strings.

‘No! Look, this is silly.’ Sally giggled as she wriggled away from him, aware of something dying inside her as she left his grasp. ‘All that is missing is the potter’s wheel!’

He scrutinized her carefully. ‘I wouldn’t have had you down as a chick-flick romance sort of girl.’

With her self-consciousness climbing to a whole new level, Sally scrubbed a stray red hair from her eyes, awarding him a mental point for understanding which film she was referring to without her having to launch into an explanation. ‘I have a housemate; she makes me watch crap movies.’

His eyes narrowed sceptically. ‘That would explain it.’ A giant right palm came forward, bringing Sally back to the matter in hand. ‘I’d like to teach you. Come on.’

‘Someone might see.’

‘Now why would that bother you, I wonder?’ He was mocking her, but despite the silence, Sally could still sense the music; and something in her yearned to hear it again. ‘I was only going to show you how to play.’

Sally swallowed. She couldn’t believe how badly she wanted this man. She didn’t even know his name. He was just an anonymous part of the jazz trio, the remaining members of which would surely be arriving soon.

More than a little aware of her damp knickers, Sally gave in to her reservations and allowed herself to be pulled back against him. The top of her head only reached as far as his neck, and he rested his chin comfortably on her shoulder. He whispered now, the breath of his words caressing her earlobe, ‘Close your eyes and feel.’

This time he squeezed her tightly between him and the double bass and, as if she wasn’t even there, began to play.

The shock of the notes as they rang through her body, throbbing between her pussy lips and igniting her breasts, dried her throat further, sending her imagination into overdrive. Bringing the instrument closer, the musician squashed her chest beneath his fast moving arms, making her very aware of the bulge that had developed in his trousers behind her lower back.

So engrossed was she in the sensations the man and his strings were creating, that at first Sally didn’t notice that his arm had moved, and was diving inside the thin black T-shirt that formed part of her waitress uniform. Without breaking his stride, the bass player popped her small breasts free from their satin holster and continued his fingering. This time though, her bare flesh and hard, taut nipples had replaced the strings directly, and every nerve in Sally’s body shot to her pussy.

Colours danced behind her eyelids, flashing blue and green before, with a firm thrust forward of his groin, and an increase in the speed of the flowing notes, blazing reds and oranges lit up the inside of her eyelids. The lust that the music had been quietly nurturing, combined with the deft touch of his large yet incredibly gentle fingers, abruptly centred itself on her snatch.

Forgetting where she was, and that they might be disturbed at any moment, Sally moved to meet the thrusts. Her arms, previously limp at her sides, reached around to his back, so she could clench the stranger’s arse. Pulling him nearer, Sally could feel the erection that was becoming more defined by the moment.

As soon as she grabbed him, his hands abandoned the bass entirely, wrapping themselves around her. Keeping up his tactile fingering, and as if Sally herself was the instrument, he carried on playing, her breasts, torso, and stomach replacing the fingerboard and strings. The only thing missing was the music, yet it was buzzing through her as, shifting his stance a little, he centred his entire musical prowess on her breasts, her nipples becoming the sole objects of his agile playing…

***

If you want to find out what happened next, you can find The Best of Kay Jaybee in e-format and paperback from all good stockists, including-

UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Best-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B009YYRM3Q/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1352239489&sr=1-2

US- http://www.amazon.com/Best-Kay-Jaybee-ebook/dp/B009YYRM3Q/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1352239753&sr=1-1&keywords=best+of+kay+jaybee

***

Blurb

Fourteen of the very best erotic tales of dominance, submission, bondage, and romantic lust, are delivered with lashings of kink from the pen of Kay Jaybee.

From the sexual adventures recalled by a woman as she stares at her favourite shirt, to a deliciously dirty orgy on a bed of cardboard boxes, the after-hours education of a rookie soldier, and the bizarre obsession of an Egyptologist, each story shows why Kay Jaybee has been hailed as ‘a master of the craft of erotica’ (Oysters and Chocolate). As a girl writes messages of lust on the body of her best friend’s lover, and a mistress’s employment of ropes and chains on her slave co-insides with the application of emulsion, we discover just how Kay has earned her reputation for producing ‘super-heated kinky stories,’ (Kd Grace), which are ‘a sublime pleasure to read’ (Violet Blue).

***

 

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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A Sticky Situation: a taste of erotic romance

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June 6  |  Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

A Sticky Situation is an erotic romance with a decidedly tasty edge…

Sticky Situation- New 2015

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…

britbabes_kink_mildnsaucy_1

After the arrival of new boy, Cameron James, to Zelcon Pharmaceuticals, Sally takes and instant dislike to him- a dislike that is tainted further with distrust when she learns that he is to be her new boss. Cameron however, has serious sexual fantasy issues about his new assistant- but he just can’t see how someone so clumsy can be as good at her job as everyone says she is…

Not only was this the first proper erotic romance I’d ever written (no whips or chains!), but A Sticky Situation was my first foray into the word of food (and indeed drink) sex- and it was terrific fun to do!

marmalade

Initially inspired by me spilling a breakfast of marmalade on toast down my front in full view of an entire café full of people, I began to wonder how I could work my own regular foodie clumsiness into a sexy love story, and which foods I could play with!

I toyed with the idea of a variety of fruit juices running over naked bodies; ice cream deserts being smeared into interesting places, and even selectively dotted spots of marmite- however, on this occasion, these foodstuffs didn’t make the grade! Avoiding my usual BDSM moments in the interests of a softer romance, I nonetheless stayed faithful to my kinky story style with the help of champagne, ice, and even a vast helping of Chinese noodles…

…Resting Sally’s juddering frame against the bed, Cameron’s eyes fell on the carton of noodles. Taking up a single strand of the cold sticky string, he held it between finger and thumb, bringing the end against Sally’s hypersensitive nipples. It was high time he lived out one of the fantasies she had inspired…

Her eyes flew open as the tacky pasta began to circle her right tit, reminding Sally of the snake hidden away on his backside. Her breath caught in the back of her throat as she watched, mesmerised, as the elongated noodle began to hide her boob.

Picking up another noodle with quiet reverence, Cameron said, ‘I was going to tell you about my fantasy…’

***

noodles

If you’d like to read about Sally and Cameron’s adventures, then you can buy A Sticky Situation from all good book and e-retailers, including-

http://www.amazon.com/Sticky…/dp/B00L4N4JZE/ref=sr_1_13…

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Sticky-Situation-Cariad-Singles-Book-ebook/dp/B00L4N4JZE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1403706109&sr=8-1&keywords=A+Sticky+Situation+kay+jaybee

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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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Sale Blitz for THE TUTOR By K D Grace (@kd_grace)

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April 10  |  Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance  |   Kay Jaybee

Sale Blitz for THE TUTOR By K D Grace (@kd_grace)

 I’m very excited to announce that for the first time ever, The Tutor is on sale for 99c in all ebook formats. Go ahead, have a sizzling Spring fling! Find out why when touch is impossible, intimacy can become a powerful work of art.

For an entire month, beginning April 4th, Lex and Kelly’s story is on sale for your reading pleasure. So go ahead and enjoy a journey to an intimacy that will totally surprise you.

 The Tutor Blurb:

Struggling writer, Kelly Blake has a secret life as a sex tutor. Celebrated sculptor and recluse, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valentine, can’t stand to be touched. When he seeks out Kelly’s advice incognito, the results are too hot to handle. When Kelly terminates their sessions due to what she considers her unprofessional behavior, Lex takes a huge risk, revealing his identity to her at a gala exhibition, his first ever public appearance. When Kelly helps the severely haphephobic Lex escape the grope of reporters and paparazzi, rumors fly that the two are engaged, rumors encouraged by well-meaning friends and colleagues.

The press feeding frenzy forces Kelly into hiding at Lex’s mansion where he convinces her to be his private tutor just until the press loses interest, and she can go back home. They discover quickly that touch is not essential for sizzling, pulse-pounding intimacy. But intimacy must survive the secrets uncovered as their sessions become more and more personal.

Buy Links:

Totally Bound Publishing: https://www.totallybound.com/book/the-tutor

Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2bV5Wak

Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2bBEwX9

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-tutor-kd-grace/1124512836?ean=9781786510785

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/the-tutor/id1147250136?mt=11

Google Books: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=QqnlDAAAQBAJ&rdid=book-QqnlDAAAQBAJ&rdot=1&source=gbs_vpt_read&pcampaignid=books_booksearch_viewport

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/the-tutor-15

Excerpt:

“Was this your idea or Dillon’s? Kelly asked, hoping to relax him.

“It was mine, after Andy told Dillon and he told me. I thought it was something that I …” The muscles along Lex’s jaw looked as though they were made out of iron, and a fine blush crawled up his neck tinting his ears bright pink. “I’ve never touched a woman … in that way.” He forced a laugh. “Obviously. I’ve …” the blush deepened and he avoided her gaze. “I’ve put lube on some of the sculptures – you know — down there, but I … well it isn’t the same.”

“The pears won’t be either,” she said, her heart suddenly aching at the physical isolation this man endured on a daily basis, and it wasn’t just her heart that ached, she felt his lack deep in her core. It had been easier with Andy. She had been almost flippant with him. She was sorry for that now. She spread one of the towels on the Queen Anne chair across from him and settled herself onto it so they were facing each other. “The texture will be different and with the pear there’ll be less give.” She dipped her fingers in the bowl and rubbed the heavy juice between her index finger and her thumb. “If you touch a woman, she’ll be much warmer.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “You’ll be amazed at how warm and how soft she’ll be down there when she’s ready to be touched. With Andy, this,” she nodded down to the pears, “was improvisation, this was the best I could do under the circumstances, but a woman, well a woman feels like nothing you’ve ever touched before.”

He was no longer avoiding her gaze. His eyes were locked on her, and he was struggling to keep them on her face, she knew that; she understood the urge for him to drop his eyes to the place of which she spoke, the place with which she was so intimate, the place that couldn’t help but respond to the topic, to the situation, to the strange intimacy they had shared almost since the moment they’d met. “You can look, if you want,” she opened her legs so that he could see the place in between clothed in black denim, completely disguised and yet so very obvious. “And I’ll look at you too,” she nodded down to his own jeans straining to contain him already. “It’s what men and woman are naturally inclined to do when there’s a sexual attraction.”

With her heart hammering in her throat, she took one of the pear halves into the cupped palm of her left hand, then she brought it down between her spread thighs, feeling the juice of it run over her fingers and drip onto the towel as she spread her legs a little farther and held her pam to mimic the position of her vulva. “Touch it like a woman would touch it, and you’ll always get it right.” She drug her index and middle finger up from the bottom of the pear to the center and felt her own body respond in empathy. “The pear has no folds, no secret valleys, no swollen flesh to be teased open, so you’ll have to use your imagination with that.”

Lex gave a little moan soft and deep in his chest as he shifted to make himself more comfortable. “I know the anatomy,” he said. “I’ve watched porn and I’ve studied drawings. I know how it looks like it might feel. I know the response it elicits.” His tongue flicked nervously over his upper lip. “Of course that’s just acting, isn’t it?”

“Porn is about fantasy, about voyeurism, and it doesn’t matter if it’s real if it gets you off. But when it is real,” she spread her index and middle finger up the sides of the pear’s central opening, “if you’re good, if your sensitive, you’ll feel the spasms of your lover’s orgasm, even see them if you’re using your tongue; and you can feel them gripping at your cock when your inside her. If you’re paying attention.

“The clitoris,” she laughed softly, “Well with Andy I used a Ticktack, but he’s a chemistry major. He likes charts and graphs and periodic tables. You’re an artist, you live in your imagination, so you don’t need a Ticktack. Some women like the thumb stroking and circling while the other fingers work inside. Some women like to use their fingers.” She demonstrated on the pear, and Lex groaned. “It’s always best to ask and be sure.”

Reviews:

“I was amazed at how well the author fanned the flames without the characters even touching. From well-detailed interactions to the steamy interludes, this is a story that is blazing hot.” 5 out of 5, The Romance Reviews

“Between helping each other, find themselves, exposing secrets and of course, some seriously steamy steamy situations, I fell hard for these characters. It’s really hard not to. Each one has their own secrets and darkness, but they learn from each other and feed off that. As much as this book is steamy and sexual, it’s just as emotionally driven. Yes, I shed a few tears, but they were happy ones.” 4 out of 5, The Jeep Diva

“This was a very different take on an erotic romance. I really enjoyed this story. The banter between Kelly and Lex was fun and interesting. Even without touching this book sizzles. The pacing was pretty fast. I don’t think I put the book down until I finished the story. Yes I loved the HEA ending. I also enjoyed the detailed character development and how the past events were slowly revealed.” 5 out of 5, Alpha Book Club

Sale blitz hosted by Writer Marketing Services.

 

 

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I Blame Chaucer

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February 14  |  BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News  |   Kay Jaybee

If it hadn’t been for Geoffrey Chaucer, then it is unlikely that we would connect the celebration of St Valentines Day with romance and love.

Brace yourself for a brief history lesson…

Chaucer

In 1382 Chaucer wrote the Parlement of Foules to honour the first anniversary of the engagement of King Richard II to Anne of Bohemia, when they were both only 15 years old. The poem contained the lines…

For this was on seynt Volantynys day, Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make.

[“For this was on St. Valentine’s Day, when every bird cometh there to choose his mate.”]

Prior to the publication  of Chaucer’s poem, Saint Valentine’s Day had been a religious celebration of a martyr (either Valentine of Rome or Valentine of Terni), and held no romantic links at all. However, writing at a time when romance and courtly love was at its most fashionable, Chaucer’s work quickly caught the public imagination.

Despite February being an unusual month for Chaucer to have written about birds mating, he wasn’t the only medieval author to have positioned such Spring-like antics so early in the year. Three other medieval authors centered their love poems on the allegory of birds mating in connection with St. Valentine’s Day around the same time; Otton de Grandson from Savoy, a knight called Pardo from Valencia, and the English poet John Gower.

Although it is unclear which of these other early Valentine poems came first, they were all widely read, and the connection between St Valentine’s Day on 14th February, and the joys of chivalrous romance strengthened and grew so much, that soon, the martyred saint himself was all but forgotten.

Courtly Love

By the Eighteen century in England, the 14th February had firmly evolved into an occasion when partners express their love for each other by presenting flowers, chocolates, and other gifts.

In the Nineteenth century, the sending of Valentines cards was so popular that they were becoming a mass produced item; especially in America and Europe, where the tradition continues to expand to this day.

I’m not entirely sure that Mr Chaucer would be that pleased with the manner of literature which I have to tempt you with as a Valentine’s treat…or maybe I’m wrong. He wasn’t exactly backwards at coming forwards with his saucy suggestions.  In The Wife of Bath, for example there are many thoughts on the sex- for example-

Telle me also, to what conclusioun
Were membres
maad of generacioun
And of so parfit wys a wright y-wroght?
Trusteth
right wel, they were nat maad for noght.”

OR- to clarify!!!

The argument above is that the genitals must serve some purpose. The Wife goes on to reject the idea that they are only made for urinating and distinguishing between males and females, saying her experience teaches her otherwise. Using the physical evidence apparent on the human body, as well as her own life experience, the Wife separates her argumentative strategy from the more abstract, learned type found in the books of “auctoritees,” or authorities. (Thanks to http://www.shmoop.com/the-wife-of-baths-prologue/sex-quotes.html for that!!)

So perhaps then, there won’t be too many medieval blushes, if I suggest that perhaps you’d like to secretly load your loved one’s Kindle with all manner of kinkiness while he or she isn’t looking….There’s nothing like mutual bedtime reading on Valentine’s Day!

Wednesday on Thursday

Happy Valentine’s Day reading,

Jenny xxx

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