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Returning to my roots: Lisabet Sarai  – #erotica #fantasies #nolimits

I am delighted to be hosting Lisabet Sarai,  a writer I have long since admired, to my blog today.

I fondly remember her novel -Raw Silk- one of the first Black Lace books I read. It seems like a lifetime ago. I never dreamed back then that one day, not only would I write erotica myself, but that some of the best writers in the business would be dropping by my site. 

Over to you Lisabet…

Returning to my roots  – #erotica #fantasies #nolimits

By Lisabet Sarai

In April 1999, almost two decades ago, Black Lace books published the first edition of my debut novel Raw Silk. That book is an explicit compendium of my personal fantasies, a taboo tale of one woman’s sexual odyssey that was strongly influenced by my own initiation into BDSM.

At the time, I knew next to nothing about the conventions of erotica or erotic romance. I didn’t exercise any sort of self-censorship. If an erotic scenario turned me on, it found its way into the novel. As a result, Raw Silk involves a wide variety of sexual activities and situations: heterosexual, lesbian, and gay; pairings, threesomes and foursomes; public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, bondage, spanking, flogging, caning, femdom; dildos, anal sex, pegging; even sex involving chopsticks and a mango! In fact, the original manuscript included a golden shower. The editor made me remove it (commenting that this would be physically difficult to achieve given the protagonist’s erection), but she allowed me to retain a promise by the dominant to do this sometime in the future.

Writing that first novel was an intense experience. The ideas simply poured out of me, onto the page. I was in a perpetual state of arousal. Compared to my more recent work, the prose is a bit stiff and pedantic, but Raw Silk remains one of my most popular books, perhaps because readers sense the unfettered imagination and genuine emotion that went into it.

As I continued to write and publish, however, learning more about market and genre, some of that spontaneity and passion got lost. I started working with a publisher of erotic romance and discovered that there were fairly strict rules for what readers would and would not accept. The main characters should not have recreational sex outside their relationship. Any sort of FF or MM interaction was strictly verboten in a MF book. Likewise, MF activity in a MM or FF story was likely to raise readers’ hackles. Then there were the “reader advisories” for more extreme activities: rough sex, anal sex, fisting, and so on. I frequently battled with my editors about content and language. Meanwhile, I had to firmly suppress my own lascivious imagination, which had my characters doing things I knew would be red-penciled out of the final story.

That state of war really exhausted me. It drained my creative energy. As a result, in the past four years, I’ve moved almost exclusively to self-publishing, and I’ve started to enjoy writing much more. And more recently, I’ve found my way back to my roots, putting out books with all sorts of sexual situations, books that shatter the genre barriers and set me free to chronicle my fantasies, the way I did when I began.

My latest release, Sin City Sweethearts, is a fine example. This book isn’t quite as personal as Raw Silk, but it probably has at least as much sexual variety. Indeed, like Raw Silk, it’s really about sex, about the characters exploring, experimenting, learning what they enjoy—then practicing their new knowledge as often as possible.

Sin City Sweethearts is the third book in my Vegas Babes series. All three novellas feature melt-your-panties, no-holds-barred, over-the-top, damn-the-consequences sexual indulgence. Everyone gets their happy endings; indeed, there are lots of couples and marriage vows. In my fictional world, though, that doesn’t necessarily translate to monogamy. Why waste golden opportunities for pleasure?

I’ve been having tremendous fun writing my Vegas Babes. I keep telling myself I should sit down and pen something more serious, with more redeeming social value. My salacious imagination seems to disagree.

By the way, I’d like to thank Kay for hosting me. As a bit of a treat for her readers, I will give away a free copy of the first Vegas Babes book, Hot Brides in Vegas, to one randomly chosen person who leaves a comment. Don’t forget to include your email so I can find you if you win!

Blurb

Welcome to Las Vegasleave your inhibitions at the city limits.

Like many newlyweds, Annie and Ted work hard, economize, live in a too-small apartment, and make passionate love whenever possible. They’re just a bit more open-minded and inclusive about sex than most couples—they met at The Fox’s Den strip club and bonded during an orgy. They’re delighted when fraternal twins Marcella and Madeleine McNabb move into the apartment downstairs. The innocent eighteen year old beauties have come to Las Vegas for university and to escape their overprotective family. Annie and Ted figure it’s practically their duty to educate the sisters about the real Sin City.

Marcie and Maddy prove to be apt pupils, with voracious carnal appetites. Before long they’re intimately involved not only with their upstairs neighbors, but also their hippie landlord and landlady, Maddy’s hunky coach, Marcie’s dominant department head, a handful of their classmates, a bevy of strippers from the Den  and the infamous Foxy and Larry themselves. Then the four McNabb brothers come to town, threatening to drag the twins back to Ely, and things get truly wild.

Exclusive Excerpt

Marcie stepped into the dimly lit corridor beyond the door, which clicked shut behind her, muting the blare of the music and the buzz of the crowd. She looked around her, her heart beating double time. She knew she shouldn’t be here. If a stranger challenged her, she could use the same story that had worked with Rosa, but what if she ran into Larry?

Her footsteps were silent in the carpeted hallway. There were several doors on either side, all of them closed, none of them marked. Annie and her friends were likely behind one of them, but which one?

“Oh, yes— please…!”

The barely articulate plea died away into a moan of pleasure. It wasn’t Annie’s voice, but it was definitely a woman—a woman in the throes of sexual bliss. Marcella tiptoed toward the second door on the left, the apparent source of the vocalization.

“Oh—sir!”  The new cry confirmed Marcie’s hunch. Hardly daring to breath, she tried the knob. To her surprise, it turned easily. She pushed just hard enough to open the portal a few inches, then peered inside.

Blood rushed to her nipples and her clit. Moisture gathered in her cleft to re-soak her already damp panties. The scene inside might have been something from a kinky internet porn site—not that she’d ever done that sort of forbidden surfing—but this was real, unfolding just a few feet from where she watched.

A naked woman lay draped face down over a coffee table. The layer of cushions under her prone body was piled higher beneath her hips to elevate her ass. In the front, straps bound her wrists to the table legs. At the rear, a bar of polished wood at least three feet long held her shackled ankles apart.

She was positioned at right angles to the door. Marcella could see everything, quite clearly: her full breasts, mashed against the table; the tangled black hair hanging in her eyes; the sweat gleaming along the curve of her spine; and the angry red marks streaking her ample buttocks.

The woman was not young—Marcella guessed she might be in her fifties—but her voluptuous sensuality was overwhelming. A flush of arousal further darkened her Mediterranean complexion. She writhed and moaned, grinding her pelvis against the pillows. Marcie felt the vicarious effects as own her clit swelled and pulsed. Like the woman upon whom she spied, she was close to the edge.

A whistling swish was followed by a snap. Marcie gasped along with the victim as a ribbon of leather sizzled through the air to leave a raw new stripe on the woman’s ass.

“Oh, God!”  the stranger wailed, in obvious pain.

“Too much? Should I stop, Giulia?” The man’s voice seemed familiar. Marcie widened the crack through which she peered until she could see the woman’s tormenter.

“No, no, sir,” came her choked cry. “More! Please, give me more!”

Marce swallowed hard. The massive security guard they’d met outside the club stood behind the bound woman, between her splayed legs. Tiny, that was what Annie had called him. He was fully dressed, in a tight black tee that highlighted his powerful shoulders and chest and trim black jeans that seemed painted onto his muscular thighs. His cock reared up from the open fly—the longest, thickest, most awe-inspiring cock she’d ever seen. It pointed straight up toward the ceiling, reaching from his groin to his solar plexus. Protruding veins twisted around its huge girth, like vines around a tree trunk. The scarlet head was so slick and swollen it looked like it might burst.

The guard pumped his meat a few times with his left hand then swung the whip in his right. With a sharp report it landed on his partner’s rear, carving a new trail of red.

“Yes!” she yelled, jerking against the cushions. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I’m almost there, sir. One more, just one more…”

Leather sliced the air, then her flesh. Releasing a garbled yell, she tumbled into a loud, energetic climax. Her master watched for two beats, then drove his astounding cock into her wide-open cleft, burying himself to the hilt.

She came again, humping the cushions while he pistoned in and out of her hole. Meanwhile he spanked her whip-battered butt, his big palms landing on her punished cheeks with terrifying, arousing smacks.

Marcella’s legs gave out. She sank to her knees outside the door, both hands stuffed into her drenched panties, frigging herself as hard as she could while she watched that enormous dick stroking in and out of the submissive’s stretched and juicy cunt. She nudged the door a bit, to get a better view of the swollen pink pussy-lips clinging to the guard’s rod as he retreated for each new thrust. Then he’d ram back in, until his balls bounced against her clit. The woman—Giulia, she remembered—took every inch of his unbelievable length.

Buy Links

Kinky Literature – https://kinkyliterature.com/book/5123-sin-city-sweethearts-vegas-babes-book-3/

Amazon  US – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MQVSWCH

Amazon UK –  https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07MQVSWCH

Smashwords –  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/917885

Barnes and Noble – https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sin-city-sweethearts-lisabet-sarai/1130204032?ean=2940155941880

Add on Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43594528-sin-city-sweethearts

About the Author

Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.

You’ll find information and excerpts from all Lisabet’s books on her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com/books.html), along with more than fifty free stories and lots more. At her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com), she shares her philosophy and her news and hosts lots of other great authors. She’s also on Goodreads and finally, on Twitter.

***

Huge thanks to Lisabet for such a fabulous blog – and the chance for a free read to one lucky commenter! So get commenting!

Happy reading everyone,

Kay xx

 

Something for the Weekend: The Collector

It’s chilly – and the wrong sort of damp – out there. Let’s warm our way into February with something for the weekend.

Something Scottish is hidden between the kinky pages of The Collector, – an anthology of twenty two stories each ‘collected’ by an anonymous narrator.

The Collector 2016 b

 

Blurb

Gathering salaciously erotic stories against an everyday backdrop of bus trips, train journeys, coffee shops, and restaurants, The Collector documents a wide variety of sexual encounters as she travels Great Britain.

The Collector’s research takes her into every arena of the erotic experience, from love, 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?

***

Extract from The Scottish Fantasy

Stacie gasped as the door opened. The dark shine to the man’s slate eyes as he regarded her and her friend Kate was in danger of taking Stacie’s breath away, and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

Tall, broad, with a tanned face and short spiked hair, a hint of stubble shadowed his square chin. Obviously surprised to see two young women walking through the woods so late on a winter’s afternoon, the ranger ushered them inside his wooden hut.

Introducing himself as Rob—Like Rob Roy! Stacie’s inner voice shouted at her. How perfect is that!—he looked at them enquiringly, ‘I dunna ken what you’re doin’ here, hens.’

Stacie’s brow furrowed. She’d thought that the Scottish spoke English.

Kate laughed as she saw her friend’s confused expression. ‘He means he doesn’t understand what we want, honey. “Dunna ken” means “don’t know” and “hen” is the local term for girl.’  Turning toward the ranger, Kate smiled. ‘This is Stacie, and I’m Kate. Stacie hasn’t got her ear geared into the local accent yet; she’s American.’

‘I guess that means an American accent.’ The ranger spoke so softly, Stacie felt herself melting on the spot. ‘I rather like those.’

Ignoring her friend, whose eyes were on stalks, leaving her in no doubt that Stacie was on an internal lust trip, Kate said, ‘We’re really sorry to bother you so late, but could you tell us where we are? We seem to be on a much longer trail than we intended to be, and we’ve lost the track.’

Rob’s dark eyes bored into her as she spoke. Kate couldn’t decide if their presence mildly amused him, or if he was merely tolerating the interruption to his work.

‘We’ve run out of water as well. Could we fill up our bottles here, please?’

‘It’s a good job you stopped, hen.’ The ranger pulled a map off his cluttered desk and pointed a thick finger at a red dotted line. ‘You’re here, on the all day walk. It’s called that for sound reasons.’

Lost in an erotic daydream, Stacie wasn’t listening to a word he said, just to the sound of his voice; the beautiful, gentle burr of his accent. She judged it fitted neatly half way between Ewan McGregor and Sean Connery.

When Kate had invited her friend over from the States for a couple of weeks exploring the Grampians of Scotland, Stacie had been thrilled. Not only could she catch up with her gorgeous friend and occasional lover, she could visit an area of the world that had always held a fantasy for her. Kilts, burly men in tight white vests, cabers being tossed, heather, whiskey, and mountains topped with snow.

The heather and mountains were a reality sure enough, as were the late night tots of warming whiskey she’d shared with Kate as they snuggled up together in the king-sized bed their Deeside hotel room provided. But until now, in this ranger’s office, hidden away in the woods near the flooded caves of Burn O’Vat, Stacie hadn’t seen anyone who even came close to the Celtic man of her late night fantasies.

Stacie felt mesmerised by the ranger. Despite the coldness of the late winter air he wore no coat, and his green sweater sleeves were rolled back to show arms honed by hard work. Forget kilts, this was as close to perfection as Stacie’s Scottish fantasy was ever going to get.

‘I’ll fill your bottles right enough, but if you’ll heed my advice, you’ll go back on the route you came. Far quicker and safer. It’ll be dark in about two hours.’

‘Thanks, I think we’ll do that.’ Kate watched as he took their empty water bottles over to his sink. His back view was as stunning as his front. The goldfish expression on Stacie’s face told her girlfriend that she was mentally undressing him, and Kate began to do the same.  Well aware that Stacie had serious fantasy issues where Scottish men were concerned, Kate wondered just how turned on her friend was. Did she have damp knickers? Were her nipples hard?

As Kate’s thoughts rambled, her own arousal began to tweak up a notch. Perhaps… She took a deep breath. Well, why not?

‘It must be lonely here, on your own all day.’ Kate knew the line was a bit lame, but she didn’t care. A sideways glance at Stacie showed that her lover had understood her intentions, and approved.

Rob didn’t look round. He didn’t need to. He could sense the two sets of eyes on his back; they were almost scorching him. Taking his time to fill the second bottle, the ranger thought the situation through.

Two of them, both hot totty. One a blonde, one a redhead. One English. One American. A tasty combination. Their bulky winter coats, sensible walking trousers and boots didn’t give much away, but he was willing to bet that once all the layers were off, they would be a sight to behold. He could be wrong, he supposed, but maybe…

Rob replied to Kate’s question. ‘I like it well enough, hen. I ken it’s quiet, but I like peace and quiet.’

‘So, you don’t get… lonely, then?’ Kate knew she was being blatant, but she didn’t care. If she could pull this off, it would be the perfect holiday present for her friend. Stacie, her mouth dry with anticipation, stepped forward. Pulling off her gloves to reveal pale hands with violently clashing purple nail-varnished tips, she took the full bottles from Rob’s hands. Making certain her fingers brushed his as she did so.

‘Thank you,’ Stacie purred as she passed one of the bottles to her partner. The tacit standoff that followed as tension rippled through the small office room-cum-workshop was eventually broken by Rob.

‘Would you lassies like something to warm you up before you go?’  His sentence, delivered in a deadpan tone, could have been suggesting something as mundane as sharing of a mug of hot chocolate, but his sparkling eyes hinted at so much more.

Stacie’s pulse quickened as Kate casually replied, ‘Well, if it’s not too much trouble, that would be lovely.’ Another normal sentence, but packed with enough eyelash-fluttering that she might as well have screamed out ‘Fuck us now!’

‘I was about to light the fire.’ Rob knelt at a small grate, already neatly piled with kindling. ‘Perhaps you’d like to lose your jackets for a while. When this takes, this place gets pretty hot.’

The girls’ eyes were drawn to the hopping, spluttering flames. They threw their coats over their backpacks, which they’d already dumped by the front door.

Taking his time with the fire, the ranger didn’t stir from where he crouched until it had taken to his satisfaction, and was smoking nicely up the chimney. Then, with a measured movement, he stood and faced his guests, who with unspoken agreement had divested themselves of far more than just their coats. Somehow Rob managed to keep his face passive as his eyes travelled from the top of each girl’s head down to their toes.

 

They stood naked. Holding hands. So, lovers in their own right, then. Nice. He smiled. It had been over fifteen years since he’d been with two women at the same time. A memory that kept him warm during the dark winter days and nights as he guarded the woodland and its wildlife.

Deciding against comment, Rob took a silent moment to choose which girl he’d treat rough and which one he’d simply treat. Then, with a pace that neither girl would have associated with the man whose previous movements had been so controlled and steady, he stripped…

***

The stories within The Collector vary greatly in length, style, and taste. The best way to think of it is as an erotica menu- lots of tasty tasters to help you discover which erotica works best for you. If you alike all sorts of erotica already, then you should (I hope!) like

Buy Links – Kindle

http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01EVVGYB2?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

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

***

Here are a couple of lovely reviews for The Collector!

‘WOW, what a GREAT book! Ms. Jaybee, the true author of THE COLLECTOR, honestly has me curious if she is, in fact, this collector. Her intros were so well written and believable that I fell under an erotic spell while reading. I didn’t LOVE every story, but I really did at least LIKE almost all of them for one reason or another. My favorites were Treasure, where a woman invites a friend of a friend back to her place so he can discover her hidden treasure; and Crushed, where a 2 (and a half) people in a standstill crowd experienced a hedonistic anonymous encounter. If I heard real life stories like these on a regular basis, I swear I would die from a state of constant arousal! … ‘ The Romance Reviews

‘Such a unique book.  The title was perfect for this book.  The Collector.  I know you are asking how I call an erotic book unique.  Well, it is because the author has such a wonderful way with writing.  I admit this is not my first Kay Jaybee book, and it will certainly not be my last.  Kaybee, is such a wonderful author.  The stories she writes are not just all sex, they each have meaning, plot, characters, challenges.  This book is no exception to her wonderful work.  Another amazing read by Jaybee.’ Bunny Reviews 

***

Happy reading,

Kay x

Something for the Weekend: Equipment

After the popularity of last week’s triple BDSM anthology, Tied to the Kitchen Sink, in our ‘Something for the Weekend’ feature; this weekend, I thought I’d share a little from its sister collection: Equipment and other stories

Equipment

Blurb

To his lust driven delight, Lee Cooper’s opinion that his girlfriend simply doesn’t have the Equipment to take control in the bedroom is quickly and deliciously.

Meanwhile, Kim is sick of her gorgeous neighbour Jack bringing home a non-stop string of unsuitable women to screw, while completely failing to notice the girl right under his nose. Taking extreme measures she sets out to prove she is more than just The Girl Next Door.

Mark’s girlfriend is Searching For Her– the perfect woman to make her lover’s dreams come true. A quest which leads her into the path of more than one willing young lady…

****

Here’s an little snippet from Equipment to ease you into the weekend…

The moment I saw his naked arse, I knew that I wanted to fuck it, and I told him so. It was the first time I’d seen Lee Cooper unsure of himself. For a split second a veil of uncertainty, possibly even fear, had crossed his generally ultra-confident square features. It didn’t last though, and he was soon shrugging my statement off with a lad-ish laugh, ‘you ain’t got the equipment baby,’ as he eased his solid cock into my willing body.

I started working part-time at the garage, where Lee is employed as a mechanic, three months ago. The first thing he said to me, as his clear brown eyes appraised my slight frame and red plaited hair was, ‘I’m looking forward to pulling on those pigtails honey.’ From anybody else I wouldn’t have taken a comment like that, but somehow from Lee it was okay. He exuded a sort of sexual confidence, and the instant and silent knowledge that eventually we would fuck radiated from his every pore. It would have been foolish of me to deny that unspoken understanding, and I privately looked forward to the day I’d discover if the tattoos that adorned his muscular arms, extended to his chest and down his legs.

That was three flirtatious months ago, and it had been fun letting the erotic tension build between us, getting more intense as the weeks of inaction ticked by, but finally, Lee’s resolve had broken. He told me, as he hammered an impatient fist on my front door during his lunch hour, that he’d been changing the oil in a beat-up old motorcar, when he’d realised he couldn’t hold on another moment.

After the glorious frisson of the wait, there was always the risk that the reality wouldn’t live up to the expectation. I hadn’t been disappointed however, far from it.

I smiled to myself as Lee dragged his grubby boiler suit back on, and disappeared down my garden path at a run. His words echoed in my head, “You ain’t got the equipment baby.” A wicked twinkle began to shine in my eyes at the prospect of what lay ahead for the unsuspecting mechanic, and speaking across the empty room, I said, ‘Well actually Mr Lee Cooper, I have all the equipment we could possibly need…’

The thought of his tight arse, of claiming it as my own, of taking control of Lee for a while, and perhaps robbing him of a portion of his macho-attitude, grew within me, and I began to lay plans for the temporary domination of this alpha-male.

On Lee’s next visit, predictably the following lunchtime, I embarked on a mission to both enjoy myself, and to lull him into a false sense of security, neither mentioning how delicious I found his backside, nor my eventual intentions for it. As his calloused hands made their way over my naked chest, pinching my nipples with exquisitely painful squeezes, I groaned with genuine pleasure. Stroking the beautifully toned body that pushed against mine, I relished the sight of the tanned multi-tattooed chest I’d so recently discovered.

It was on Lee’s fourth visit that I kept my hands exclusively on his backside. Patting it gently, smoothing it, and caressing it, in a totally non-threatening way, as my new lover pumped himself swiftly in and out of me.

On the fifth visit Lee announced he’d had a dream about tying me up. His face, when I told him that he could do just that, was a picture. I’m not sure if he was more turned on by the fact he could do anything he liked to me, while my hands were secured behind my naked back, or by the feeling of power my helplessness gave him. I suspect the latter. As Lee’s warm tongue explored my stomach, and ducked skilfully between my spread legs, I wallowed submissively in the blissful feelings that engulfed me.

During visit number six, a rare after work encounter, while Lee was both fucking and smacking my arse with stingingly wonderful efficiency, the last few parts of my plan fell into place, and I knew that my need to take his firm neat backside was reaching the point of obsession.

A little over two weeks after Lee had first turned up on my doorstep, I decided the time had come to act. Laying out my sex toys in a neat row near my pillow, I hid them from view with my duvet. Removing the clutter of clothes from the battered old armchair I keep in the corner of my bedroom, I adjusted its position so that it was at the foot of the bed. Then I took off my regular jeans and t-shirt, and put on my tight black Lycra bodice and matching knickers. The caress of the clinging material against my flesh was enough to increase my pulse-rate, and boot-up the arousal I had been so carefully keeping in check.

Lee’s distinctive knock on the door came at almost exactly seven o’clock as we’d arranged. I smiled quietly to myself at his promptness and, wrapping myself in a black silk robe, descended the stairs to collect my unwitting victim.

‘Wow babe,’ his appreciative eyes ran over my robed frame, ‘like the silk.’ He reached forward, and I allowed Lee to engulf me briefly in his arms, his stubble scratching my cheeks as his mouth came to mine. Then, I broke away from his magnetic warmth, holding him at arms length.

‘You like what you see?’ I grinned at Lee, my green eyes reflecting into his brown ones, ‘you want to see more?’…

****

If you’d like to find out what happens to Lee next, you can buy Equipment from all good e-retailers- including…

Happy reading,

Kay xx

Coming Soon: The New Room

Hot on the heels of the re-release of my trilogy, ‘The Perfect Submissive’ comes the revamped version of a short finale to the adventures of Miss Jess Sanders. 

Welcome to the The New Room

Blurb- The New Room

Resident submissive of the Fables Hotels adult entertainment floor, Miss Jess Sanders, has been instructed to test out the new facility that her manageress, Mrs Peters, has designed for the sexual pleasure of her clients.

With a dungeon, Victorian study, medical bay, school room, and the daunting White Room already available for their guests, Jess can’t begin to imagine what lies behind the innocent looking door to the fifth floor’s new room.

Under the supervision of the dominatrix, Miss Sarah, as Jess steps into the new room, she quickly discovers she is about to experience far more than she bargained for…at freezing temperatures.

With the feeling that she’s acting in a play that everyone knows the script to but her, the Fables perfect submissive is challenged to the limit in Mrs Peters new room, and beyond…

***

Whether you have already enjoyed the three novels in ‘The Perfect Submissive’ trilogy or not, this tale of love, submission and bondage kink, will give you chills…but not as many as Miss Jess Sanders…

COMING SOON.

In the meantime, you can find the rest of the trilogy here…

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B07DX6JFY1/ref=series_rw_dp_sw 

Happy reading,

Kay xx

If You Can’t Handle the Heat

Today I’m delighted to welcome a good friend to this blog- and to me- H K Carlton, with her brand new book, If You Can’t Handle the Heat.

Thank you for inviting me to your blog today. I’m doubly excited to share not only the re-launch of, If You Can’t Handle the Heat, but this re-release is also my first self-publishing venture.

This story was previously published with the title If You Can’t Stand the Heat. Though there is a little bit of added content, the story remains relatively the same.

 

In this erotic story, two very different professionals are brought together as celebrity judges on a reality-based cooking show. Sesto Théodore—the celeb chef that the show is built around—meets walking cliché, Syn Fully, erotic novelist. Though there is an immediate conflict in personalities, there is also an instant sizzling attraction. A classic clash and burn.

 If You Can’t Handle the Heat

by

H K Carlton

Excerpt:

 

Sesto took the opportunity to turn his wrath on Syn. “May I speak to you out in the hall, please!” he demanded, shooting to his feet.

“Of course,” she responded, haughtily, as though she hadn’t just been giving him the initial stages of a hand job under the table.

Sesto allowed Syn to take the lead. He was momentarily captivated by her long shapely legs, as she stalked across the space, confident and oh-so fuckin’ sexy in those red stilettos. Sesto pulled level with her and couldn’t resist the urge to place his hand to the small of her back, left bare by the severe cut of her dress. If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d trembled at the contact. Or was it his hand that quivered?

In the corridor, Syn rounded on him, at the same moment he blurted, “What the fuck do you think…”

The words died on his tongue, as she once again stroked his shaft through his trousers. Her gaze settled on his mouth. Her breathing was shallow.

“Where’s your dressing room?” she asked, backing him up.

Sesto grabbed her other wrist and dragged her into the green room, before slamming the door behind them.

He yanked her hand, above her head and forced it against the door. He half-expected her to fight. What he wasn’t prepared for was the brazen little smile that hooked her sinful lips, as she raised her arm to join the other. With both hands stretched above her head Syn arched toward him, thrusting her beautiful tits, right in his face.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked again. “We don’t even know each other.”

“I know. Isn’t it wicked, how our bodies want to though.”

He groaned, shifting uncomfortably foot to foot, yet he couldn’t focus on anything but her lovely breasts.

“Go ahead, Théo, set them free,” she tempted, her voice barely above a whisper.

 © H K Carlton

Buy Link:

Universal Link


About the Author:


H K Carlton is a multi-genre Canadian author of romance, with over thirty titles in publication. From naughty to nice, historical to contemporary, time travel to space travel, and everything in between.

Variety is creativity’s playground—It’s where you’ll find me

 

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Thanks for popping by today hun. Good luck with your new book.

Happy reading,

Kay xx

 

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