Kay Jaybee

Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

Tag: erotica (Page 1 of 92)

Double Dose of Holiday Reading

I’m away on holiday!! I know- a miracle! I rarely take time off, so when I do, I don’t take technology with me.

While I’m away, I thought I’d leave you with a little something to read- 2 little somethings in fact – an extract from my sex obsessed novella, Wednesday on Thursday and the first chapter from my mega kinky delivery man novella, Not Her Type 

Enjoy!!

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 café 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…

***

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

 

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…

***

Not Her Type

 

Blurb

When Jenny’s regular delivery man, John, reveals that she has become the centre of his sexual dream world, Jenny’s quiet existence is thrown into an arena of desire that she thought she’d long since abandoned. 
One unexpected, head-swimming romp later, and Jenny is left wondering if her courier will ever visit her again – and if he does, will he mention the hot sex they had on her living room floor that Tuesday afternoon, or will he pretend it didn’t happen?
When the following Tuesday arrives and John reappears on Jenny’s doorstep, the scene is set for a continuation of intensely kinky weekly meetings. There’s only one problem: John really, really isn’t Jenny’s type…

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.

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

Opening Lines: Watch the Skies by Tanith Davenport

It’s “Opening Lines” time, and I’m delighted to welcome Tanith Davenport to my site, with the first 500 words from her re-released novel, “Watch the Skies.”

Over to you Tanith…

My excerpt is from my new re-release “Watch the Skies”, a piece I was inspired to write after many episodes of “Chasing UFOs” and “Destination Truth”. My characters are alien hunters, travelling out into the countryside at night in the hope of seeing something more than faint lights in the sky – only this time my alpha heroine, Aster, gets much more than she bargained for.

First 500 words of Watch the Skies

She liked to look out of her window at night and watch the stars.

It was a strange feeling. Sometimes it was curiosity, a desire to know what was out there. There had to be something, she was sure. They couldn’t possibly be the only intelligent life in the universe. Somewhere, no matter how far, there had to be other life, other knowledge.

But then, how far? Across unguessable gulfs, or closer by? Within their own galaxy, or lost somewhere in the immensity of space? Could it be possible that there was alien life within easy reach, or would it involve impossible travel to find them?

Sometimes it was loneliness. She wanted to find someone else out there, someone to communicate with, someone to know. It was difficult sometimes, feeling that she didn’t really belong. She often felt as though she was alone in a crowd, not like everyone else, abandoned in the midst of numbers.

Maybe out there in the universe there were others who would understand.

And then, at other times, she thought she saw lights, shapes. It was probably nothing. Airplanes, shooting stars. But at those times she would find her emotions changing as she watched, feeling a strange sensation of peace or belonging. She would find herself wanting to join them, yearning to cross that space and see them.

She could almost hear them in her head sometimes.

Ours. Ours. Ours.

Not that she ever would tell anyone that. People would think she was crazy. Hell, she often thought she was crazy. But it gave her comfort to feel wanted, even if it was all in her mind.

The strangest times were when she would feel lust.

Not for anything in particular. It was an odd, free-floating lust that seemed to attach itself to nothing. But sometimes she would watch the skies and find herself leaning hard against the window, one hand pressed to the zip of her jeans, clit throbbing, wet, aching to be touched.

She would never understand why, but she liked to think it was part of the sense of belonging. That sometimes she was wanted, needed, and in return they made her need. It was a sweet secret she would never share, bizarre and special and solely her own.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

She liked to picture them at times, imagine what they might look like. She had read so many different descriptions of alien life. Would they have the pointed face, wide eyes and spindly limbs of the traditional grey alien? Would they look more humanoid, blonde and sensual? Or maybe they would be completely different, unimaginable. She liked to think they would be recognisable, but maybe there were things out there that nobody had ever seen, or claimed to see.

The feelings of desire had come more often recently. More and more she had found herself aching, wanting, staring up at the sky in need. So many times she had yearned for someone to appear in front of her and touch…

***

Blurb

Alien hunter Aster is frustrated in more ways than one. Her team haven’t had a proper encounter in months, and her cute teammate Wade is never going to see her that way – and no other man would let a woman like Aster take charge in a relationship anyway.

Until one night, out in the woods, when the team are engulfed in a white light – and overwhelmed with desire like they’ve never known. Suddenly Aster sees a new side to Wade, one that will let her give her alpha tendencies free rein…

But as the creatures they met return again and again, Aster begins to wonder what they really want – to see her and Wade together, or something more sinister?

Buy links:

Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2IUkKrB

Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2MdrkID

Social media:

www.facebook.com/TanithDavenport

www.twitter.com/TanithDavenport

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/40226308-watch-the-skies

tanithdavemport.blogspot.com

***

Bio

Tanith Davenport began writing erotica at the age of 27 by way of the Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Scheme. Her debut novel “The Hand He Dealt” was released by Total-e-Bound in June 2011 and was shortlisted for the Joan Hessayon Award for 2012.

Tanith has had short stories published by Naughty Nights Press and House of Erotica. She loves to travel and dreams of one day taking a driving tour of the United States, preferably in a classic 1950s pink Cadillac Eldorado.

Tanith’s idea of heaven is an Indian head massage with a Mojito at her side.

***

Many thanks to Tanith for that wonderful extract.

Come back in two weeks time for Emmanuelle du Maupassant’s “Opening Lines”

Happy reading everyone,

Kay x

 

The Collector and beyond…

It feels like a lifetime ago since I first started to write The Collector– my very first, full length, solo work of erotica. Actually- it was three lifetimes ago.

‘Kay Jaybee’ hadn’t long been ‘invented’ when I started scribbling ideas for the stories which were to form the basis of the first edition of The Collector. And my other alter-egos, Jenny Kane and Jennifer Ash, hadn’t even been dreamt of.

A great deal has happened within my writing life (and my ‘real’ life), since The Collector was first released in 2008. Back then I didn’t dare think beyond one short story at a time. I never thought I’d still be trotting out the erotica all these years later. I certainly never imagined that erotica would have gone through a semi-destructive period, which saw many of the best in the business hang up their stockings in despair; nor did I forsee a world in which eBooks would be the favoured form of reading medium for the genre. And most surprising of all- I never saw my nomination as Best Erotica Writer of 2015 coming!! And I can’t believe that was 3 years ago! Time really does fly when you are having fun.

These days I do as much creative writing tutoring as I do actual writing- so if you need an erotica writing tutor- just shout!

The Collector, my very first solo work as an author, will always have a place close to my heart. With it’s menu of kink- something for everyone- it was a real learning curve for me a a writer – and I love it.

If you’re a fan of erotic short stories- then I have good news.  My ‘A Kink a Day‘ series (previously only available on Radish) will be coming to eBook world by the end if the summer…Start stockpiling ice cubes to cool you down after reading…

***

Blurb- The Collector

Gathering salaciously erotic stories against an everyday backdrop of coffee shops, restaurants and bus trips, The Collector documents a wide variety of sexual encounters as she travels across Great Britain.
The Collector’s research takes her into every arena of the erotic experience, from lust, submission and dominance, to voyeurism and beyond.
Are you brave enough to see if it was your supposedly private conversation she overheard—and then wrote down?

Buy Links

Amazon UK – https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01EVVGYB2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660  

Amazon.com – http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01EVVGYB2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660 

***

Still collecting…

Happy bedtime reading,

Kay xx

SMASHWORDS SALE: The Perfect Submissive Trilogy

It’s time for the The Tenth Annual “Smashwords Summer/Winter Sale”

From July 1-31 you’ll be able to buy online versions of all three novels in

The Perfect Submissive trilogy

at a discounted price!

The Fifth Floor

Book One- The Fifth Floor – is available at 50% OFF

Hidden behind the respectable façade of the Fables Hotel in Oxfordshire, five specially adapted rooms await visitors to the fifth floor. Here, Mrs Peters is mistress of an adult entertainment facility pandering to the kinky requirements of its guests. When she meets Jess Sanders, she recognises the young woman’s potential as a deliciously meek addition to her specialist staff. All it will take is a little education.

Under the tutelage of dominatrix, Miss Sarah, Jess learns to cope with an erotically demanding training schedule and a truly sexy exercise regime. But will she come to terms with her new career?

Meanwhile, Mrs Peters is temporarily distracted from her intimidating rule over Fables’ fifth floor by artist, Sam Wheeler – who she believes can help her in her mission to transform Jess into the perfect submissive…

Book Two – The Retreat – is available at 50% OFF

Just as Jess Sanders is adjusting to her new life as the submissive in residence on the fifth floor of The Fables Hotel, her employer, Mrs Peters, makes a startling announcement. She has agreed to loan Jess, and her dominatrix Miss Sarah, to one of their most demanding clients; Mr David Proctor.

Whisked away by the mysterious Kane to The Retreat, a house hidden in a remote part of Scotland, Jess and Miss Sarah find themselves teaching a new submissive how to meet Proctor’s exacting rules.

As Jess comes to terms with the techniques of The Retreat’s overpowering dominatrix, Lady Tia, she discovers that Proctor’s motives may not be all they seem. Just who or what is Fairtasia? And why does Jess feel like she’s walked into a warped fairy tale?

In order to get back to the fifth floor, Jess is going to have to be far more than just a perfect submissive…

Knowing Her Place

Book Three – Knowing Her Place – is available at 25% OFF

Full of unanswered questions after her erotic fairytale experience at The Retreat in Scotland, Jess Sanders is desperate to return to her submissive position at the exclusive Fables Hotel in Oxfordshire.

Having been thwarted in his plans to keep Jess, The Retreat’s owner, David Proctor, isn’t willing to let her go without sending the so-called ‘perfect’ submissive on one final mission. Only if Jess succeeds in the task he sets her, will Proctor remove the collar of servitude he has locked around her neck.

With a list of five unfamiliar addresses to hand, Jess is placed in a car and driven away from The Retreat towards England. With no idea of what, or who, awaits her at each location, all Jess can hope for is that the journey will eventually take her back to where she belongs.

To the fifth floor of the Fables Hotel, where Miss Jess Sanders truly knows her place.

***

Make sure you don’t miss your chance to buy the entire trilogy at a bargain price!!

All the buy links are available here- https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/KJaybee

(This offer only applies to eBooks purchased via Smashwords from 1-31st July)

Happy reading,

Kay xx

Opening Lines: Menagerie a Trois by Kellie Kamryn

It’s ‘Opening Lines’ blog day! I’m delighted to welcome Kellie Kamryn to my place today for a little erotic romance..

I enjoy writing comedy and making people laugh. I often take every day life occurrences and embellish on them in my writing. So far, readers and reviewers have enjoyed the outlandish tales I often spin. I hope everyone enjoys the Brokenhead Hearts series as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here is book 1 – Menagerie a Trois. Thank you Kay Jaybee for hosting me on your blog today!

The first 500 words:

“He’s going to think you’re some psycho.”

Katherine Monroe blew her ginger bangs upward, then heaved a sigh. “Not helping, Kit.” Katherine, or Kat as most of her friends knew her, snuggled with the newest kitten and murmured to it. “It’s okay little one. Doctor Cole is very nice. We’ll get you looked at and you’ll be taken care of forever.”

Kit Morgan, her best friend, punched her in the arm. “You need to be taken care of. As in admitted. I love animals as much as the next person, but this isn’t what I signed on for.”

Kat flashed a bright smile at her raven-haired friend. “You can always move out.”

Kit threw up her hands in exasperation, and Kat held the kitten in front of her face. Kit heaved a sigh of resignation. “He is cute. What’s one more? What are you going to name him?”

“That’s the spirit, and I was thinking—Sweetie because he’s so sweet.” Kat bent down and secured the dapple gray kitten in the pet carrier. “I promise this is the last one.”

“You promised that about the first cat you brought home.” As if on cue, Painter—a spotted calico—rubbed up against her leg.

Kit scooped him up, propping him up on her shoulder.

“See? You love them,” Kat said.

Kit petted Painter on the head. “And apparently, you needed a third.”

“You’re always complaining you can’t find a third,” Kat retorted. “Now—voila.”

“Person,” Kit iterated. “A third person. As in ménage, not menagerie.” Painter jumped from her arms, only to be replaced by Tabitha—aptly named due to her being a tabby cat. “I swear if you bring home a puppy…” Kit grumbled before she spoke in soft tones to the cat.

“They all needed love,” Kat stated as she stepped over to the bed. “How can you deny that?”

“People need love, too.” Kit set Tabitha on the bed. She took hold of Kat’s arms and looked her square in the eyes. “You need to find love instead of fixating on these kittens. I want you to get over your fear of asking the good doctor out before we end up with a shelter here of our own.” She pressed a firm kiss to Kat’s lips. “Besides, maybe I can find my threesome if you do.”

Kat sighed and rolled her eyes. “Do you always think about sex? And why does your threesome have to involve me?”

Kit held up a finger. “First—I think about sex all the time, and there’s nothing wrong with that. Second—you should think about it more often and act on it, rather than rescue every stray that makes sad eyes at you. Talk to the vet, ask him out, and if he says no, then you can move on and stop making excuses to see him. Third—it’s not just my fantasy. You wanted to have a threesome with people you love and trust. You trust me. But you have to…

BLURB:

When Kat gets a new kitty, she asks the vet to play.

Dubbed the Kat Lady by her roommate, Kat Munroe admits to an ulterior motive for rescuing strays—a chance to visit the cute Dr. Evan Cole at the vet clinic. He makes her heart purr as much as her kittens do. Determined to ask him out before he thinks she’s some crazy cat woman, Kat works up her courage for the next visit.

Evan Cole doesn’t see many females other than the animal variety at his veterinary clinic. Always a believer that the right woman will walk into his life someday, he made everything else—vet school, his career—a priority over searching for love. But from the day Kat Munroe walks through the door with a stray feline rescue, his heart beats to see her again. His dilemma—how to create the perfect romantic date when you’re clueless about dating?

When they finally go on a date, disaster strikes at every turn. Will they be able to handle the menagerie? Or will they decide that more isn’t merrier?

Buy Links:

Amazon

eXtasy Books

Kobo

Google Books

Also available at iBooks

BIO:

Winner of the RONE (Reward of Novel Excellence) Award for Best Erotica 2012, Kellie Kamryn has many 5-star reviews from sites such as Night Owl Reviews for her work in contemporary romantic fiction. In 2013, one of her novellas was nominated for Best Novella for the RONE Awards. In 2011, she presented a motivational workshop at the Moonlight and Magnolias GRWA Conference, and offers a writing workshop for authors – A Novel Creation – since 2015.

All of Kellie’s books contain a lot of heat balanced with an abundance of Heart. Most days she can be found channeling her heart’s desire into writing stories and poetry that sweep readers away into other worlds. When her muse requires a change in scenery, she funnels her creative energy into bringing many a tale to life through her work as an audio narrator. And when her body demands attention, you can find her in the gym jumping on the trampoline in between teaching Kindergym classes, or training and co-teaching Baguazhang (Bagua) as self-defence to women/families, and for health and healing to individuals on the Autism spectrum.

Kellie is also a former columnist for Evolved World, now writing for The Aquarian Online, a local print and e-zine dedicated to inspiring and encouraging further self-awareness for individuals everywhere.

www.kelliekamryn.com

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KellieKamryn

Instagram: kellie_kamryn

Youtube 

***

Many thanks Kellie. Fabulous starting point.

Come back next time for 500 words from Tanith Davenport.

Happy reading,

Kay xx

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