Tag: Christmas Page 4 of 6

Opening Line: One Last Christmas by Dylan McEwan

On April 18, 2018

In eBooks, gay erotica, News, Opening Lines Blog

I’m delighted to welcome Dylan McEwan to my site today as part of my ‘Opening Lines’ blog series.

The idea for this series is that- once a fortnight- a different erotica writer will drop by to share the first 500 words (exactly) from one of their novels or novella.

Over to you Dylan…

I could have chosen a more current work or coming-soon book to feature here but I have chosen One Last Christmas simply because I enjoy reading it myself. The setting is both a contemporary British city and a futuristic post-apocalyptic domed super-city. When I first wrote the story some years ago I had no intention of submitting it for publication. After having several very successful erotic novellas and a full-length fantasy novel published under a pseudonymn, I had taken a long hiatus due both to serious ill health and a family bereavement and was easing myself back into writing with short stories just for my own entertainment. I was just writing what I wanted to read. The story came to me in a brief flash of inspiration – one of those times when it’s the early hours, you’re trying to sleep, but suddenly your brain decides instead to throw a story at you and you have to write down the plotline before you forget it. Most of my stories are fairly strong on the BDSM side but this turned out to be a sweet gentle romance that actually caused me to well up on re-reading. I am now working on a full-length novel based on the short story.

The Opening Lines

Jace stared at the sea of whiteness before him. In realistic terms, it was a pre-primed cotton canvas adhered to a tempered hardboard core. To Jace, it was an invitation, a beckoning opportunity, with the possibility to become anything at all in all the world that he could imagine and create, with a spectrum of acrylic and tempera. He never felt so alive as when he was giving birth to a work of art. Each brush stroke was a little piece of his soul, each finished painting his offspring. Right now, however, he was sterile. There was no spark of inspiration, no vision clamoring to escape his mind’s eye.

He sighed, raked a hand through his shoulder-length sandy colored hair, and put down the hog bristle brush he had been holding for the last fifteen minutes. It was time to give up for now. While this was frustrating, he wasn’t overly concerned. It happened sometimes. He knew there would come that moment of clarity when he would see so clearly the image in his mind that he wanted, needed, to bring to life. He just had to wait.

Jace left the bedroom he’d turned into an artist’s studio and went to the kitchen to make himself a mug of tea. He poured the hot water onto the bag of Darjeeling, then while it was brewing went downstairs to check if there had been any post. He picked up the pile of letters from the doormat and sorted through them, leaving those for other tenants on the shelf. Back upstairs, he sat down to open them at the small breakfast table. Most were white envelopes, hand addressed, obviously Christmas cards, but one was a brown windowed envelope, and he opened that first. He swore under his breath after reading it, screwed it up and threw it into the paper recycling bin. Great! The bank had refused an extension on his overdraft. What was he supposed to do for money now? There certainly weren’t going to be any luxuries like a turkey for Christmas. He’d be lucky if he could afford to have the central heating on. He couldn’t work any more hours and continue to paint. He was burning the candle at both ends now as it was. No one on minimum wage could afford to rent this place on their own. It was a real struggle since Alan and Dean had left. If someone didn’t answer his ad for a new roomate soon, then he was going to be in real trouble.

Jace decided to go for a walk to clear his head and take his mind off his worries for a short while. He wandered aimlessly along the sidewalk, sprinkled with the first fall of snow, occasionally glancing up at some of the wintry scenes decorating the shop windows. When he reached the town center with its department stores and street markets, he had to steer his way through the milling crowds of Christmas shoppers, laden with bags and…

***

Buy Links

Luminosity Publishing:

http://luminositypublishing.com/book/one-last-christmas/

Amazon.com:

https://www.amazon.com/One-Last-Christmas-Dylan-McEwan-ebook/dp/B01G6ALRKE/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&qid=1523115687&sr=8-6&keywords=dylan+mcewan

Amazon.co.uk:

https://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=one+last+christmas+dylan+mcewan

Barnes & Noble:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/dylan+mcewan?_requestid=5015864

Book Blurb

If it’s true love, then even Time and Space cannot be an obstacle.

Struggling artist Jace Hamilton needs to find a new roommate to help make ends meet. He has no idea that posting that advert will change his life. Discovering a tall, dark and mysterious stranger on one’s doorstep is the stuff of cliché romance novels, but that’s exactly what happens when Jace meets Daniel Philips—a tall, dark stranger who oozes sex appeal and is hiding a fantastical secret!

Despite the obvious chemistry between them—and several fun romps between the sheets—it seems that this is nothing more than a holiday fling because Daniel is only in town for two weeks and is very evasive about his travel plans. But Daniel has fallen hard and isn’t going to let a little thing like a 500-year age gap stop him from being with the man he loves.

An emotionally-charged gay romance with a twist.

***

Author Bio

Dylan asked for a typewriter for his seventh birthday and has been writing ever since. He had his first short story published in a children’s comic when he was 12 when his main inspiration was Enid Blyton!

Dylan has played with lions, lived in an Iron Age round-hut, slept in a 5000-year-old rock tomb and kayaked white water rapids but now lives a quiet family life in the north of England with his daughter and youngest son. He enjoys hiking, camping, ancient history, archaeology, reading, writing poetry, vegan cookery, ancient crafts, LARP costume making, pagan/spiritual activities, and watching yaoi anime.

Dylan writes fantasy, sci-fi, fairy-tale, historical, BDSM, and contemporary gay romance stories and novellas, most with happy endings or at least happy-for-now endings and publishes under several pen-names.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dylanmcewan65

Website: http://nazmcewan.wixsite.com/erotic-author

Twitter: https://twitter.com/DylanMcEwan65

Blog: https://dylanmcewan.blogspot.co.uk/

***

Thanks again Dylan, a great starter!

Happy reading everyone!

Kay

PS- Come back in 2 weeks for Liv Honeywell’s 500 words.

Donning That Little Red Dress

By Kay Jaybee

On December 21, 2017

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance

Up and down the country- whichever country that may be- men and women are laying down their laptops, putting aside their PC’s, closing their diaries, and switching on the answer machines so that they can head out on their ‘Work Christmas Do!’

As a self employed writer, if I went on a ‘Work Christmas Do’ all that would usually happen, would be that I’d have a gingerbread muffin alongside my usual cup of coffee. (Although my Jenny side did actually get two work Christmas meals this year!!)

However, this does not stop me imagining what it might be like to go to a Christmas dinner and dance- a.k.a the office party! The men pulling on a suit and worrying about just how ‘festive’ their tie should be. The women stare at the contents of their wardrobes for hours as they suddenly hate the outfit they’d got especially for the occasion, and desperately need to pick something else – or is that the sort of thing that only happens to me?

Anyway! The idea of the little black dress as the central point for an erotic story has always attracted me – and then I thought, maybe not black- why not bright red… Once the idea took hold, I just had to write a story called, The Little Red Dress. Here’s an extract for you…

“…Deaf to Alice’s continued protests, Rachel had marched her friend by the elbow from the office to the only store still open. A single rack of party dresses remained left in stock.

Overriding Alice’s claim that the only one left available in her size would make her look like a hooker, with a blunt, ‘For heaven’s sake Alice, you’re thirty-one, not sixty-one! You have a great body—time to show it off a bit.’ Rachel picked up the dress and pushed Alice towards the checkout.

Without being allowed to try the startling scarlet dress on, Alice had found herself with a posh carrier bag in her hand, the cautious owner of a garment that was fashioned from about as much material as an oversized T-shirt.

Now, with her eyes still closed, Alice smoothed the red fabric into place. It clung to her body sensually with a curious warmth that caressed her everywhere it touched. Conversely, it also made her feel very naked everywhere it didn’t touch.

Its thin shoulder straps were pointless. They certainly weren’t required to hold the dress up. It was far too tight-fitting for that. Alice’s cleavage, which had always been generous, felt oddly cold and incredibly visible, although the dress supported her bra-free breasts as if by magic.

The hemline only just reached the top of her thighs, and there was no way on earth she could wear either tights or stockings without them ruining the line of the dress, or being disturbingly, if not suggestively, obvious. Alice tried to close her mind to the fact that she had to go commando. She really didn’t want to think about that—yet her mind couldn’t stop thinking about it. She had never felt so unbelievably sexy in her life—and she hadn’t even seen herself in the mirror yet.

With a deep breath, trying to ignore the nerves of anxiety that swam in her stomach, Alice opened her eyes.

She gasped. That wasn’t really her—was it?

Her legs seemed longer and slimmer than she remembered. Although Alice had to admit that she didn’t actually look at them, or any part of her body, with any level of concentration unless she absolutely had to. Now she had no choice. She was all legs and bust.

Conscious of every inch of her body, Alice sucked her stomach in and gripped the hem of the dress, tugging it south. But the cost of covering an inch more leg was at the expense of exposing a greater depth of cleavage to the point where her nipples only just remained covered.

The thought that she was going out in public with the twin peril of either bending over and exposing her arse, or self-consciously fidgeting in her unaccustomed outfit and flashing her breasts to the world, filled Alice with an excitement and trepidation that prickled at her pussy, and made the skin of her neck behind her long chestnut hair dot with a perspiration which had nothing to do with being too hot. What are you thinking? You can’t go out like this! The voice of reason at the back of Alice’s head shouted at her reflection.

Alice glanced at her wristwatch. Rachel would arrive to collect her at any moment.

Briefly, she contemplated pretending that she was ill, or simply ignoring the ring of the doorbell when it came, but a new voice—a louder, more determined voice—began to sound in her mind. It was shouting at her. You look good. Sexy, even. Why not show those perfect people at work that you aren’t the boring plain old Alice they think you are? Why not do what Rachel says and show Gary what an idiot he was? Why not—just this once?

Alice had the strangest feeling her dress was talking to her.

Slipping the silver glitter-covered high heels she’d borrowed from Rachel onto her feet, Alice pushed her shoulders back and her chest out. Perhaps tonight she could get through the chuckled comments her work colleagues were bound to make about how they’d found the boss’s son last year, by pretending to be someone else entirely. Someone who always wore little red dresses…”

****

If you want to find out what happened to Alice in her new red dress at her office Christmas party, then you can find the rest of that story- and 5 others, in my Christmas Kink anthology.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GI2DDQM

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Christmas-Kink-Five-Festive-Fantasies-ebook/dp/B00GI2DDQM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1383810527&sr=8-1&keywords=Christmas+kink+five+festive+fantasies

***

Happy reading,

Kay xx

Christmas Courier: Wrapped

By Kay Jaybee

On December 20, 2017

In BDSM, Book Publications, eBooks, erotic romance, News

One of my favourite of the many Christmas scenes I’ve written appears in my sexy novella, Not Her Type: Erotica Adventures with a Delivery Man.

I thought I’d share a little of it with you today…

The knock at her door made her jump, and Jenny physically had to restrain herself from running to see who the caller was. So what if it’s one o’clock? It’s Christmas Eve, he isn’t working, and he won’t come. It’ll be my next door neighbor with some mince pies or something. Her pulse thudded violently in her chest as Jenny moved to the door, convinced that the hope she couldn’t prevent from rising in her chest was about to leave her disappointed.

The silhouette through the glass panel in her front door was unmistakeable.

“I was just passing.” The shine in John’s deep brown eyes told her this was a blatant lie.

A wide smile crossed her face as Jenny let him in, “I thought you might be away for Christmas or something.”

“I thought you might be too.”

A feeling of awkwardness came over Jenny. Despite everything they had done together, there was nevertheless so much they didn’t know about each other. She felt almost shy as she spoke, “I was going to text, but I didn’t want to get in the way of your life or anything.”

“Same here. I thought you might be with family.” A large, rough hand raked through the back of her hair, easing out the knots, sending little currents of craving down Jenny’s neck and into her chest. Then, slipping a hand into hers, John steered Jenny toward the living room, swiftly banishing any uncertainty.

Gesturing to the middle of the floor, he said, “Last minute wrapping?”

“A few bits for the neighbour’s kids.” She could feel her pulse accelerating as he looked at her, “My family all live abroad, it’s just me in the UK.”

“That’s a big roll of paper for those little gifts.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the way he spoke or the look on his face that gave him away, but Jenny knew what was going to happen before he moved. In seconds, John had stripped her naked, and Jenny was being enveloped in large swathes of jolly, silver-star covered gift-wrap.

“Don’t move, and don’t speak, okay?”

Nodding, she tried not to laugh as John wrestled with the dispenser, before he cut off length after length of sticky tape, which he used to secure the paper tighter and tighter around her. Jenny’s arms became pinned to her sides, and her legs were clamped together as if she was some sort of bizarrely festive Egyptian mummy.

Stepping back to admire his work, John’s face creased with hunger, and Jenny’s urge to giggle dissolved. She could feel her breasts chafing against the smooth, figure hugging covering, and suddenly she realized how desperately she wanted them to be free so that John could hold them, suck them, hit them…do whatever he wanted with them.

John began hunting around the room for something. Jenny however, could only wonder how long it would be before she could suck his shaft, or feel him slide between her legs. She wanted to speak, to ask him to kiss her, but she’d promised not to talk, and didn’t want to distract him from whatever he was going to do next.

He stood so close to Jenny that his dark eyes tunnelled into hers. He peeled his clothes off at a speed that made the lightning disposal of Jenny’s garments seem positively drawn out.

Attempting to distract herself from the need to speak, Jenny traced her eyes over the line of his chest, the hairs so soft and inviting, his tattoos just begging for fresh examination, and his cock, hard and firm, pointed at Jenny accusingly, as if making its owner as horny as hell was a crime.

Shuffling her feet unsteadily on the carpet, she watched as he began to unwind the satin purple ribbon she’d spent ages draping around her Christmas tree. Her throat turned the texture of sandpaper as she comprehended the meaning behind the devious expression in John’s eyes. He brought the two-meter garland toward her.

Naked and emanating power, John began to wind the ribbon around her neck in a large bow. Picking up a pair of scissors from the floor, he cut off the remaining strip of fabric, “I started thinking about doing this last night. I even have some rolls of gift-wrap in the van. I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw this lot waiting for me.”

Wide eyed, Jenny saw her film courier twist part of the ribbon around his arm, before approaching her. Again, she guessed what he was about to do, and she tensed as the first bind of the silky material went over her eyes and around the back of her neck, trapping her hair.

Mewling into the purple darkness, and deprived of the sight of his gorgeous body, Jenny felt John’s fingers fiddling with the knot behind her head. Then his hands came to her elbows. “You look incredible. Are you okay?”

She nodded awkwardly; glad he was holding her, afraid she would topple over at any moment.

“Good girl. You remembered not to talk,” John’s breath tickled her neck as he said, “You are, without doubt, the most tempting Christmas present I’ve ever seen.”

As he spoke, her breasts, already swollen with their need to be touched, became taut and hot, and pussy juice began to leak along her inner thighs.

The pressure of his palm as he pushed it against her wrapped-up mound made Jenny stagger so much that John had to steady her with this free arm. Moaning as his fingers encased and probed her enclosed clit, Jenny’s liquid flowed freer, soaking the paper, turning the crackling sound it had initially made into a wet, squelchy rustle.

“What a hot, little bad girl you are.”

Jenny felt the layers of wrapping paper between her legs start to mulch as John kneaded and pinched her flesh. Then, with a grunt of frustration, he lifted her off her feet and laid her on the floor. An urgent hand came to her right breast, kneading her tit, creasing and crumpling the gift-wrap.

Abruptly John stopped, his weight lifted from her, and a sense of bereavement consumed her body. She had no idea how she managed not to plead for more.

The purple ribbon over her eyes became darker, and Jenny realized he must have turned the lights off. Then the chirpy Christmas tunes that had been playing in the background disappeared as the radio was clicked off. Silence filled the room. Uncertainty crept through Jenny’s mind, and a drizzle of perspiration trickled between the packaging and the back of her neck. Her ears strained to pick up a sound, but she couldn’t hear anything, not even her man’s breathing.

Time seemed to pass slowly as Jenny lay like a fallen statue, painfully aware of the friction of the saturated paper as it clung to her pussy. Every part of her body ached for a continuation of the attention it had been receiving. The ribbon against her eyes felt tighter than ever, but Jenny began to wish it was between her teeth, gagging as well as blinding her, for there was no way she could stay quiet for much longer. Clamping her jaw, Jenny was determined not to break the rules, but the more she thought, the more her resolve began to crack.

“John?”…

****

Well, I’d better let you go now- you are probably in a hurry to go and buy a few rolls of extra long gift wrap…

If you’d like to read about Jenny and John’s courier kink, or see what happened next on Christmas Eve, then you can buy Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man from-

Amazon UK- http://www.amazon.co.uk/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-Delivery/dp/1484881184

Amazon.com- http://www.amazon.com/Not-Her-Type-Adventures-Delivery/dp/1484881184

****

Many Christmas and happy reading!

Kay xx

Christmas (Kink) Miracle

By Kay Jaybee

On December 18, 2017

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance

Traditionally Christmas is a time associated with miracles and good fortune.

Well, to my surprise and delight a little miracle has fallen my way – and it couldn’t have been better timed.

For the second day running, Christmas Kink : Six Festive Fantasies, is number one in the erotica chart on Amazon UK

Not only that but it is also in the Amazon Bestsellers Rank at:

#97 Paid in Kindle Store

#1 in Kindle Store > Books > Literature & Fiction > Erotica

#2 in Books > Erotica > Literature & Fiction

#116 in Books > Fiction

By the time you read this blog, my festive fantasy collection may well have fallen in the rankings- and that’s OK. To be up there (ahead of Fifty Shades- let’s face it…that’s always a good day if that happens), even for a few hours is a wonderful experience.

It is particularly special for me because I have been having a serious re-think about my erotica lately.

I’ve been having a wonderful time re-editing my ‘The Perfect Submissive Trilogy’- which I am pleased to say is already -ummm- enflaming a whole new generation of readers. The Fifth Floor (previous entitled The Perfect Submissive) is back with a vengeance. Book 2, The Retreat is already appearing on a chapter per day basis on the Radish app, and will be out in both paperback and eBook early next year- closely followed by Book 3, Knowing Her Place.

The question I’ve been asking myself however, is do I write anything new in the erotic genre?

I love writing erotica, but as I write so many other genres as well, is it worth my time writing any more? I ask the question in the light of receiving this missive… (and I’m quoting from a major publisher here…) “Kay Jaybee will never make money in erotica because she makes the mistake of treating her readers as if they are clever, have an imagination, and can think beyond the realm of reality TV.”

I still can’t decide who I’m most insulted for – me – or you guys!

This is not the first time such a comment has come my way- and although it is sort of nice to be considered as writing intelligently….well…you get my point…

So- 2018 is going to bring many re-leased KJB books…but will the sequel to Wednesday on Thursday get written? Will the sexy spoof spy thriller I’ve been drafting get penned….or should I just quit while I’m….behind???

In the meantime- THANK YOU to everyone who has purchased Christmas Kink!! VERY much appreciated. You’ve made my day!

Hugs,

Kay xx

Christmas Kink Seasonal Sexiness: KDP Daily Deal

By Kay Jaybee

On December 17, 2017

In BDSM, eBooks, erotic romance

TODAY ONLY: CHRISTMAS KINK IS ONLY 99p/99c!

Blurb

What’s your favourite part of the Christmas celebration? Decorating the tree with tinsel, the heavenly aroma of cinnamon and fruit from Christmas cakes and puddings, the office Christmas party, a visit to Santa’s grotto, the expected presents?
Christmas Kink twists all of these festive traditions into six individual episodes of hot erotica that will leave you fanning yourself with the nearest Christmas card…

Here’s a tasty taster from the first story in the anthology…

Extract – Santa’s Little Helper

Jay gazed approvingly at her reflection in the tinsel-decorated mirror. The gold material shimmered as she turned from side-to-side. Cut to fit tightly against her chest, the bodice section gave way to an extremely short, almost tutu-style skirt, of the finest silvery gauze.

Her fingers trailed through the soft folds before she reached around to stroke the feather like wings that protruded from her back.

The fabric curtain was drawn back and the sales assistant drew a breath. ‘You are possibly the most beautiful fairy ever destined to top a Christmas tree.’ He pulled the ties tighter at the back of the bodice, forcing Jay to stand up taller. ‘You are also the sexiest.’ He pushed two exquisite high-heeled shoes towards her white-stocking-clad feet, enjoying the view as her tiny gold thong flashed in front of his eyes when she bent slightly to slip them on.

As a final touch he slid a delicate glittering tiara onto her short curled hair, and put a wand in her hand. ‘Now, all that’s missing is a smile.’

‘I am smiling.’

‘That’s not a smile, that’s the evil grin of a wicked slut who knows that every guy that claps eyes on you is going to be asking Santa Claus if he can screw you for Christmas.’ …

Romantic and steamy, with a touch of S&M, a sprinkling of cinnamon (yes, really), pony play, a little red dress, a kinky fairy, well placed decorations, and a winter time woodland orgy, I think there’s little festive kink in this anthology for everyone…