Kay Jaybee

Everyone Needs A Bedtime Story

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Erotica brings freedom

A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to teach one of my erotica writing classes at the brilliant Eroticon conference in London. As soon as I walked through the doors, to be surrounded by fellow erotica authors and sex bloggers, I felt relaxed. Not something I’d have thought possible before I entered the world of erotic writing fourteen years ago.

Sadly, I don’t have the time to go to as many such events as I’d like to these days, but every time I do, I’m touched by the same thought- writing and reading erotica gives a slightly different kind of freedom to other styles of writing. it’s all equally valid- but it still feels different.

I was recently reminded of a blog I wrote for Chloe Thurlow some time ago, which plays with this point a little.

Not only is the writer of erotica able to live out any fantasy and scenario in their heads- usually way beyond the remit of what they’d do in real life- but they can take their readers to places they’d never dared go before- and turn them on whilst they are doing so. There is a certain thrill in that knowledge alone. The thought that my words are providing others with the ultimate pleasure, without them having ever met me- wow- that’s powerful stuff!!

 

The following is part of a blog I did for Chloe Thurlow, which expands my point…

…”As Kay Jaybee, I have something of a reputation. I am frequently referred to as the ‘Queen of Kink;’ and when I meet people at readings, I’m often seen with a paddle in hand, skimpily clad, and whip wielding. This ‘adopting of a fantasy’ role is just that: a fantasy. I am, after all, in the happy making business! Would I really want to spank the odd arse and tie up the occasional passing person? Well – yes – of course I would. But would I actually do it? Would I push my own boundaries beyond the realm of paper and pen? Well, that’s up to you and your imagination to decide…

After almost a decade of writing smut I’m more and more convinced that one of the main issues people have with erotica writers isn’t a disapproval of what we write, but a sense of being threatened by it. They (and I know I’m generalising here) are uncomfortable with letting their own imaginations widen; of pushing their own private boundaries a fraction. Are they perhaps afraid of what they may discover about themselves?

boundaires

If that sounds like you, then try, just try. Read a little erotica, after all, what happens within the safe confines of your own mind while you are reading it, is for your knowledge alone. The boundaries we push within our own heads – like our dreams – are ours and ours only. They are, in their own way, a special kind of freedom…”

I started to write erotica by accident- but now, fourteen years in- I write it for the sheer exhilaration of it. The freedom of it. Maybe to bring me closer to the person who I’d like to be  if I was a little braver? I’m not sure…but that doesn’t matter- because I do know I’m making a few other people happy with my words.

Isn’t that what we are here for?

Happy reading,

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

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

New Release: One Night in Inverness by Charlotte Howard #EroticRomance #CityNights #eBook

New Release: One Night in Inverness by Charlotte Howard #EroticRomance #CityNights #eBook

Blurb:

In order to save their marriage, Des and Frankie decide to mix business with pleasure when they attend a literary festival in Inverness. But once they arrive, Frankie soon discovers Des’s long-kept secret, and has left her questioning whether she can ever trust him again. Des isn’t the only one with secrets, and Frankie wonders if it’s all worth the heartache. As the night wears on, they are both forced to face the truth about their marriage.

Can Frankie accept the truth about Des?

Can Des forgive Frankie’s past?

Can one night in Inverness fix their marriage?

Excerpt:

The sound of my husband swearing snapped me out of my mouth-watering daydream, and back into the dullness of reality. I put my book, and the sinfully delicious Nathan Mathers contained within its pages, down on the hotel bed and glared at him. “What’s happened?” I asked, trying to sound concerned and not irritated that he had ruined my fantasy.

“They want Roberta Hathaway to attend the festival,” he said, pacing the room and running his hands over his head, raking his fingers through his light brown hair, which was in desperate need of a trim, I noticed. I’d started doing that – picking up on little things about him that grated on my nerves. I gave myself a mental chastising. This was supposed to be a weekend for us to rekindle our long-lost spark. And it hadn’t been that long, after all. Some couples go years without sex. What were a few months? My stomach knotted as unwanted memories began to swim towards the surface of a very deep lake.

I grazed my teeth along my bottom lip and glanced down at the name on the cover of the book I’d been reading. “Is that a problem?”

I was secretly giddy at the prospect of finally meeting my favourite author, and didn’t understand why he was so stressed. Roberta Hathaway was a prolific, and best selling, erotic romance author. She’d achieved the top spot on numerous sought-after lists. The Sunday Times, New York Times, USA Today, Amazon… They all raved about her novels. But she was also famously reclusive.

In the ten years that Des’s company had represented her, she had never once attended a signing, festival, or book launch, leaving all the publicity down to him and his business partner, Peggy. In fact, the only time anyone saw her was when they looked at the rather dated black and white photo on the back of her books. My husband had been her agent for a decade, and I’d never met her. The idea of her finally attending a literary festival was immense! I mentally played out the conversations I’d have on the playground when the other mums found out that I had met Roberta Hathaway. They’d be insanely jealous.

I’d first discovered her through Des a few years earlier, when he’d handed me a copy of her first novel Sinfully Yours to glance over. He’d called it an Advanced Reading Copy. It hadn’t even had a front cover then, and was full of typos. It had been a good read, but hadn’t really been my thing at the time. I’d glanced over it, more than read it. Before Roberta, the most erotic thing I’d ever read was an old Jilly Cooper novel, tucked away and gathering dust in the school library when I was a teenager. It had felt naughty at the time – I was sure it had been put there by mistake. Probably a prank by one of the sixth formers. When I look back, I realise how tame it was in comparison to what I read now. Especially when compared to Roberta Hathaway. She had certainly improved since that first book I’d scanned all those years ago.

“Think of the publicity,” I said, trying to keep my tone smooth and unexcited, although I suspect he heard the eagerness seeping through my words. I wondered if that made me a sad and lonely desperate housewife. I spent my free hours lost in so-called Mummy porn, supposedly written and designed for women whose sex lives were lacklustre and boring.

Des ignored me, as he always did when I dared to make a suggestion regarding his business, and picked up his mobile. He pressed a button and held it to his ear. “Peggy? Did you get the email? Shit… Yeah, I know… I know. What the hell is she playing at? How the hell does she expect us to pull that off with no notice whatsoever?” He cast a glance at me before checking his watch. “Half an hour? Yeah, I could do that.” He hung up. “I’m really sorry, hon, but I have to go and meet with Peggy to sort this shit-storm out. Get yourself some room service or something, and I’ll make it up to you another day. I promise.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead – more action than I’d had in weeks.

I clucked my tongue and frowned. Our trip to Inverness was supposed to combine business with pleasure; a book festival for Des to mingle at, sell some of Roberta’s new books, and make new contacts, and a dirty weekend away for the both of us to try and relight a flame that had been long extinguished. It was the first time we’d had more than a day to ourselves since our eldest son had been born, almost twelve years ago. And now I was being abandoned, yet again, so that he could go and discuss my favourite author with his business partner. So much for stoking dwindling fires. The guilt of a certain dalliance started to feel unwarranted, and the suspicions I’d been flirting with began to stain my vision once more.

Author bio:

British author, Charlotte Howard, was born in Oman and spent much of the first part of her life flitting between Oman, Scotland, and England. Now settled in Somerset, Charlotte lives with her husband, two children, and growing menagerie of pets.

Her career as a writer began at an early age, with a poem being featured in an anthology for the East Midlands. Since then Charlotte has written many short stories and poems, and finally wrote her first full-length piece of fiction in 2010.

During what little spare time she has, Charlotte enjoys reading and writing (of course), spending time with her family, and watching action movies whilst eating curry and drinking tea.

Charlotte is an active member of Yeovil Creative Writers Group.

Social Media Links:

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Buy Links:

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Exciting Times: 2018

I have so much planned for 2018 that I hardly know where to start!

I’ll forgo the look back over 2017 as -to be honest- it wasn’t the best year. Instead, let’s look forward to the year ahead. A year which is already looking jam packed!

As you’ll know if you follow this blog, the first part of my “The Perfect Submissive Trilogy” – The Fifth Floor- was re-released last month.

Hot on its heels will be the re-release of Book Two- The Retreat. This is currently available on the reading app, Radish. In a few months time however, it will be available as both an eBook and as a paperback- as will Book 3- Knowing Her Place.

Not only that, but my bestselling novel, Making Him Wait, has found a brand new home….more details on that as soon as I’m allowed to tell you!

My Jenny Kane side (contemporary women’s fiction) and my Jennifer Ash side (medieval crime) are also both very very busy teaching writing workshops and giving author talks across the South West of England.

Despite having all that to do- after a while out of the erotica writing arena- I’m working on a brand new series of books. More about that soon!

Also- my Kink a Day series (currently on Radish)- will be available as eBooks asap.

I think you could say, that I’ve got my mojo back!

Happy New Year everyone,

Kay xx

 

 

 

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