Release Blitz: Wednesday on Thursday by Kay Jaybee

Kay Jaybee’s brand new novella is an erotic adventure which takes you into the world of obsession - with a twist. A very puzzling twist. Quite literally.

It’s amazing where drinking a cup of coffee and a doing a crossword puzzle can lead you...

Back Cover Information

There are rumours that the coffee guy has “a thing” about words.

Shrugging off her friend’s concern about the way the man in the cafe stares at her every lunch hour, Wednesday can’t see how his love of words could possibly be hazardous.

The fact is, Wednesday rather enjoys being the centre of an attractive man’s undivided attention. His dark blue eyes alone have provided her with many delicious erotic fantasies, a welcome distraction from the pressures of the real world and a dull job.

It’s totally harmless...

...until there’s an accident with a cup of coffee.

After soaking Wednesday with a hot latte, the coffee guy’s attention suddenly becomes far more enticing—and dangerous.

Drawn into a bizarre world of human behavioural research, where crosswords are used to initiate sexual experiments, Wednesday finds herself driven, not by a desire to further scientific research, but by the need to be rewarded for her hard work by the coffee guy’s captivating research assistant. A stunning redhead by the name of Thursday...

Amazon UK

Amazon

Extract from Wednesday on Thursday

Prologue

Sat at her usual table, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her latte, Wednesday began her daily cycle of speculation. Who was he? Did he come into the cafe at other times and fixate on other customers? What was going through his mind while he observed her so intently? Why didn’t it bother her?

Most men noticed Wednesday’s chest first; some opted for checking out her arse. A rare few went further with their assessment, and engaged her in conversation before they tried their luck.

But not this man; the one she referred to as the coffee guy.

With a double shot espresso in his hand, the first time he’d set eyes on Wednesday, the coffee guy had started with an unashamed assessment of her chest, then, over a period of several weeks, studied her from the top of her head to the toes of her shoes.

Instinct told Wednesday to avoid the coffee guy at all costs. The way he examined her with his enquiring midnight blue eyes was so unsettling. And yet...

Whenever Wednesday walked into the cafe she frequented during her lunch break, the coffee guy would be there. From the moment she took her first step through the door, his focus would shift from his drink to the queue of customers, where it would become fixed upon her.

She thought she’d imagined it at first, but as time had gone by, Wednesday had become increasingly convinced it really was her he was watching.

It had crossed her mind that maybe she should be scared, that this man could be some sort of voyeuristic stalker. But Wednesday didn’t feel threatened; just intrigued and aroused, although she wasn’t sure why.

Only once had he spoken to her.

A swapped lunch break with her friend Carol had placed Wednesday behind the coffee guy in the queue.

Her coffee had already been in her hand when he’d stepped back and accidentally knocked into her, spilling the beverage down her front in a breathtaking cascade of wet heat.

Wednesday had watched helplessly as the liquid seeped through her black shirt, ran down her purple pencil skirt, and travelled on an unstoppable route into her boots.

Too stunned to talk, she’d tugged the wet material of her shirt outwards, not caring that she might be giving the world a generous view of her cleavage.

‘Wednesday, are you okay?’ The barista behind the counter had rushed to her side, pushing a wad of paper napkins into her hands. ‘You can use the staffroom if you like. There are spare T-shirts in there. Help yourself.’

Feeling like an unwilling contestant in a wet T-shirt competition, Wednesday had rushed towards the door marked Staff Only.

It was only once she’d walked into the staffroom that she realised the man who’d caused the accident had followed her.

‘Your name is Wednesday?’

‘Yes.’

‘I find that rather pleasing.’

Then, without a word of apology for ruining her clothes and potentially scalding her, the coffee guy had disappeared.

All Wednesday had been left with was the lingering blaze of his navy blue eyes, which had heated her flesh just as much as the spilt drink.

Kay Jaybee was named Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO, and received an honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.

Kay Jaybee has written over 150 erotic stories, including The Collector, (KDP, 2016), The Perfect Submissive Trilogy, (The Perfect Submissive, The Retreat, Knowing Her Place, Xcite 2011-14), The New Room, (Xcite, 2015), The Voyeur, (Xcite 2012), Making Him Wait (Sweetmeats, 2012), A Sticky Situation (Xcite, 2013), Digging Deep, (Xcite 2013), Take Control, (1001 NightsPress, 2014), and Not Her Type (1001 NightsPress, 2013.

Details of all her short stories and other publications can be found on her website.

You can follow Kay on -

Twitter - https://twitter.com/kay_jaybee

Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Goodreads - http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/3541958-kay-jaybee

Brit Babes Site - http://thebritbabes.blogspot.co.uk/p/kay-jaybee.html

Kay also writes contemporary romance as Jenny Kane – www.jennykane.co.uk

Masturbation Monday - The Harlequin

Welcome to Masturbation Monday, and wow what a prompt we have this week! It reminds me of one of the spin-off stories in the SEXY AS HELL trilogy, THE HARLEQUIN. Here's a snippet to whet your appetite...

Back Cover Information for Sexy as Hell

Sexy as Hell: an erotic trilogy that will submerge you into the black heart of a world of bondage and discipline, Dominance and submission, sadism and masochism.

Dare to take this twisting journey with Victor and you’ll learn the ropes with him, experience every carnal sensation and fall into a dark and dangerous love that grips like a fist and binds like a collar.

Get to know Zara, his sultry teacher, and you’ll gasp when she doles out her sinful instructions but then delight in the stunning results she not only demands but achieves. It seems Heaven and Hell are not so far apart when she holds the reins.

Victor has his layers peeled back, but when he does the same to try to get to his Vixen’s core, a revelation appears. Because Zara is a woman whose vast sexual experience is both her strength and her weakness; she can inflict pain and pleasure, make lusty demands and instruct, but she needs so much more, she needs…

Yes, the time has come to for her to admit to her needs and confess to the repairing her soul hungers for. A sea of memories, a lifetime of control requires an acknowledgement that will cut through her barriers, and there’s only one man up for the job—her virgin, her student, her newly trained monster, Victor Partridge.

A little about The Harlequin -  Marti, who features in The Harlequin, is a character in book #1 of the Sexy as Hell Trilogy. Because of his unusual lifestyle, flamboyant appearance and daring act at Eden Street, Marti really deserved his own book, not least because in part he was responsible for Victor (the hero in The Novice) finding his own inner beast and releasing his animalistic passion on a very delighted Zara.

Marti shares his life with Joel, the only man who has accepted Marti for exactly who he is—a guy with male and female parts. Although they are in love, they do like to dabble in threesomes from time to time. When Marti’s snake, Rio, becomes ill, a visit to the vet gives them more than just antibiotics for the snake…

Sheldon’s flat was typical bachelor pad, all black leather, muted green curtains, and boxy furniture. There was a picture of a lion bringing down a zebra above a glowing halogen fire mounted on the wall.

Joel shut the door of the living area, took my jacket, hung it on a hook, and then stood next to me as Sheldon opened a drinks cabinet.

“Brandy?” he asked.

“Perfect,” Joel said. “But a small one for me.” He shrugged. “Driving.”

I glanced at him, and we shared a look. We both hoped that driving wouldn’t be on the agenda for a while yet.

As the clink of the decanter touching the glasses rattled around the quiet room, I walked over to the low sofa and studied the contents of what appeared to be a small, square medical trolley on wheels. Spread out on a pale blue sheet were several long, thin instruments, a tube of KY, a syringe and some cream latex gloves.

“What’s this?” I went to pick up one of the stick things.

“Please, don’t touch.” Sheldon walked quickly over, three tumblers locked in his big hands, and gestured for me to take one.

“Why not?” I asked, pressing my hand between my breasts.

“They’re sterile. Here, take a drink.”

I did as he’d asked and let the heat of the brandy flood my tongue and throat.

Joel joined us and took a sip of his. 

The warmth of his body radiated onto my bare left arm.

“What are they?” I asked.

“Sounds,” Sheldon said. “These particular ones are Van Buren’s. My favourite sort. Though I am partial to the rosebud here.”

“Sounds?” I looked at Sheldon. “What do you do with them?”

“Lots of fun things that make me feel real good, Marti.” He dropped his gaze to my tits. “Maybe you should try them.”

“I think he’d like that,” Joel said, brushing my hair over my shoulder and letting his fingers skim my neck.

A tingle went over my skin. “You know what they are?”

“Yes, I’ve seen them used before.” Joel continued to stroke my neck, lower, and lower still onto the rise of my cleavage. “They can be very sensual.”

“You ever tried it, Joel?” Sheldon asked.

“A couple of times.”

“You never told me?” I said. “About sounds.”

He shrugged and brushed his lips over mine. “I guess I just always get distracted when you’re naked. Other things come to mind.”

“And I can’t blame you, Joel.” Sheldon rested his hand on my forearm. “Marti is damn beautiful.”

“He is,” Joel said. “In every way.”

A zip of pleasure washed up my back. After years of being told I was odd, weird, and ugly by my parents and other, small-minded people, having two hot guys adore me and lavish sweet words on me was delicious.

“So what are they for?” I managed. My breath was a little short, and my heart rate had picked up.

“They’re for stimulating the prostate via the urethra,” Sheldon said. “A bit of lube and down they go. It’s pretty fucking intense.”

“It’s pretty fucking awesome from what I remember,” Joel said, taking my drink and setting it down alongside his.

I peered around Sheldon’s shoulder at the sounds. “They go down your cock?”

“Yep, that’s exactly what they do.” Sheldon ran his hand up my arm and glanced at Joel.

Joel smiled at him and gave a small nod—permission to touch me granted.

Heat filled my stomach, and my cock pressed against my zipper. Fuck. This was too good. Joel was up for sharing me as much as I wanted to be shared. Praise to the Lord.

“I want to try it now,” I said. “If it feels so bloody good.”

Sheldon twitched his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Joel, can I?”

“Of course, baby, if Sheldon is happy to do the honours. I’m a little out of practice.” 

He grinned, and I knew he wanted to watch Sheldon touching me, pleasuring me. He’d confessed in the past that he found it hot that I was his to give to another person, just for a while. That he knew I always came back to him even if I’d come until I’d passed out with someone else. It was always him I needed at the end of the day.

“I’m more than happy to show Joel the delights of sounding,” Sheldon said, raising his touch to my breasts and tracing the outline of my bra through my clothes. “I was expecting to play alone this evening, but now, well, this is just perfect.”

Joel moved behind me and tugged down the zipper on my dress. It was tight and didn’t fall away so he peeled it over my head and then set it aside.

Sheldon stepped back, scanned his gaze down my body, taking in my boots, stockings, black knickers and bra, and let out a slow whistle. “Jesus, you’re something else. Like every fantasy come true, tits and a cock.” He downed his drink then placed the empty glass on a side table.

“I’m glad you approve,” I said, jabbing one hand onto my waist and jutting my hip provocatively.

“Oh, I more than approve, I’m in fucking seventh heaven seeing you like this, and soon, you’ll be in heaven, too, once I get you coming with these sounds.”

“I like the idea of that.”

Joel released my bra, and it fell to the floor. My breasts were pert, and despite being large barely dipped at all. And they still smelt deliciously of Joel’s spunk.

“You can touch them,” Joel said to Sheldon. “They’re very sensitive, though, so be gentle.”

“Of course.”

Sheldon stepped up to me as Joel circled his hands around my body and supported my breasts in his palms. I leaned into him, my back on his chest, and ran my hand over Sheldon’s short, sharp hair as he bent to suckle on my right nipple.

“Oh, yes, that’s it,” I gasped. “Like that.”

His mouth was hot and wet, and he flicked and nibbled in a way that had my nipple erect and solid in seconds.

Through his jeans, Joel pushed his hard-on into the channel of my arse cheeks. I groaned and fluttered my eyes shut, my long, fake lashes tickling the tops of my cheeks. I’d gone from being worried sick about Rio to gagging for some steamy action all within the space of a couple of hours.

“I’m going to need him on the table, lying down,” Joel said. “It’s the right height.”

“Okay.” Joel stepped away, grabbed a cushion and quilted blanket from the sofa, and went to the long wooden table standing by the curtained window.

Sheldon straightened and pressed his damp lips to mine. I slid my hands over his shoulders, pulled him closer, and peeked my tongue into his mouth. Damn, the guy tasted as good as he smelt; rich coffee and dark chocolate.

“This should make it softer.” Joel shook the blanket over the table and set the cushion as a pillow. “Come here, baby, let’s get you settled.”

I pulled back from Sheldon and stared into his eyes. They were brimming with lust and sparkling with anticipation.

“Yes, let’s get this show on the road.” Sheldon threaded his fingers with mine and led me to the table. “But do you mind leaving on your stockings and boots, they’re so fucking sexy.”

“Your wish is my command,” I said.

“Such a good sub,” Joel said, kissing my cheek and then rolling down my knickers.

My cock sprung up to my navel, hard and eager, as he stooped to take my panties over one foot and then the other.

“Mmm, I’d normally work a first-timer on a soft cock but I don’t think that’s going to happen, is it?” Sheldon said.

“Not with you two drop-dead hunks in the room, no.” I fisted my dick and gave a few tugs. “You’ve got me hard enough to hammer nails.”

Sheldon laughed. “Okay, we’ll have to make do then.” He collected the trolley and set it by the end of the table.

Joel helped me climb on with my lower legs dangling over the end. I propped myself up on my elbows and watched Joel tickle his fingers over my nipples.

Sheldon snapped a glove onto his right hand. He looked bloody lovely standing between my legs in his white coat, black shirt, trousers and that glove. I’d never been into the whole medical thing, but right now it was pressing all my buttons. I had thoughts of his latex-covered finger spearing my arse hole and groaned.

“This is a sterile wipe,” he said. “For the tip of this pretty dick of yours.”

He held my cock in his ungloved hand, his big fingers wrapping tight around my erection and holding me firm.

I let out a sigh at the sight of it and the feel of him touching me for the first time.

 Carefully, he smoothed the cool, alcohol-smelling wad of cotton over my glans.

“This is going to be so hot to watch,” Joel said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I’m as fucking hard as you are, baby.”

Sexy as Hell Boxed Set

The Harlequin

Saturday Spankings - GRAND SLAM

Welcome to Saturday Spankings. This week, in honour of the Australian Open, my co-authored BDSM novel GRAND SLAM is on special offer at just 99c/99p

Back Cover Information

California had seduced me with promises of a new life working at Los Carlos Tennis Academy. What I didn’t expect was the dark, brooding number one seed, Travis Connolly, resisting my help. He wasn’t interested in my psychology skills. Instead his attention was drawn to the edgy, sharper corners of my desires, proving that they existed, setting me challenges and driving me crazy to the point of combustion.

I’m the best tennis player in the world—officially—so why would I need a damn woman full of psychobabble to get me on form? Despite my irritation, however, I can’t resist pushing Marie Sherratt’s buttons even though doing that shows her the darkest shades of my lust, the parts of me I buried deep. So I set her a challenge, one she rises to, one that has me rising too, and before long my game relies on her calling the shots, hitting the target and bending to my will. One thing was certain, being not just master of the court, but also of Marie is seriously good for my soul.

“Yes, oh yes!” The words tumbled from her sweet lips, almost tripping over one another in their eagerness to get out. It was that eagerness that had my cock pressing excitedly against the crotch of my trousers. I could hardly believe she was here. Not just with me, but in a BDSM club, watching people slap and fuck. The best part was that she was enjoying herself, getting turned on. I could tell from the little wiggles she was doing in her seat and the way her fingers gripped mine, twitching slightly every time the woman in the purple corset landed a blow on her man’s arse. It was time for Marie’s second lesson in submission.

“Well, are you going to tell me or do I have to guess? I warn you, if I have to guess, it’ll be so much worse for you.”

“N-no, it’s okay. I’ll tell you.”

I watched her chest lift and then drop as she sucked in and released a deep breath. Her dark eyes met mine and it was all I could do to stop myself kissing her again. It wouldn’t have been a bad thing, of course, but I didn’t want to prevent her from saying what she wanted, how she wanted me to punish her for sending her little fingers somewhere they never should have strayed. I could scarcely wait for her to say it so I could get my hands on her perfect body and set us both on the path to utter bliss.

“I-I would like you to, um, put me over your knee and spank me.”

My cock almost ripped through my boxers and trousers, Incredible Hulk-style. It was as if she’d read my mind. Or perhaps the comment I’d made in her office about rendering her backside red and sore before taking it in my hands and licking her pussy until she screamed had made an impression. I certainly hoped so, because at that moment there was nothing I wanted to do more.

“Okay,” I said, bringing her hand to my mouth and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “It’ll have to be my hand, though. I don’t have a paddle or anything with me. I wasn’t expecting to play with anyone tonight.”

“That’s okay.” Her voice was so quiet I had to lean closer to catch her words. “I want you to use your hand. To feel your skin against mine.”

My Sexy Rainy Afternoon ~ @MySexySaturday #MySexySaturday #MySexyAuthors #Saturday7 #MSS174

Welcome to My Sexy Saturday. This week, in honour of the Australian Open, my co-authored novel GRAND SLAM is on special offer at just 99c/99p.

Back Cover Information

California had seduced me with promises of a new life working at Los Carlos Tennis Academy. What I didn’t expect was the dark, brooding number one seed, Travis Connolly, resisting my help. He wasn’t interested in my psychology skills. Instead his attention was drawn to the edgy, sharper corners of my desires, proving that they existed, setting me challenges and driving me crazy to the point of combustion.

I’m the best tennis player in the world—officially—so why would I need a damn woman full of psychobabble to get me on form? Despite my irritation, however, I can’t resist pushing Marie Sherratt’s buttons even though doing that shows her the darkest shades of my lust, the parts of me I buried deep. So I set her a challenge, one she rises to, one that has me rising too, and before long my game relies on her calling the shots, hitting the target and bending to my will. One thing was certain, being not just master of the court, but also of Marie is seriously good for my soul.

“The bedroom’s that way,” Travis said, then practically shoved me into a stunningly big room with a large chocolate-brown leather bed and dark built-in furniture.

Was I dreaming? Floating? Had I taken something illegal that was giving me the mother of all highs? I wasn’t sure of the answer, but my God it felt good. My senses were alive, my heart pounding; every breath seemed to course through my body, delivering oxygen, yes, but also neat lust to each cell of my being.

Travis strode over to the window, drew the heavy black curtains then turned to me, hands on his hips, his feet apart and his eyebrows drawn down low and determined.

I gulped. It was an expression I’d seen on him a couple of times before. I never thought I’d see it directed at me, though. In the past I’d always seen Travis Connolly glare like that just before he won a match point at a major tournament. It was his “I’m going to get exactly what I want and there’s nothing you can do to stop me” stare.

A quiver of nerves attacked my belly, sending goose bumps skittering over my skin. They all seemed to congregate on my arse, and again I was reminded of the smarting and the sting of my dress rubbing against the sore flesh.

“Turn around,” he said, reaching for the top button of his shirt. “Now.”

I did as he asked and set my focus on a stack of black silk pillows on his bed.

“Take your shoes off.”

I slipped out of my sandals, kicked them to one side. The carpet was soft on the soles of my feet and I felt even smaller than I had before.

“And your dress.”

I reached for a zip at the side.

“Did you hear what I said?” he snapped.

“Yes.”

“Yes, Sir, Marie. You answer me ‘yes, Sir’ when I tell you to do something.”

“Yes… Sir.” My voice quavered a little in my throat. Excitement certainly, but also apprehension. By saying Sir I’d acknowledged that he was in total control, in charge. I’d handed over trust to Travis and would allow him to nurture my pleasure in whatever way he saw fit.

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Dark & Dirty - OUT NOW

 

Four dangerously dark and delicious stories that will awaken your dirtiest fantasies.

NOT ONE NIGHT by D.C. Stone:

One night of pleasure isn’t worth losing a lifetime of friendship. Or a reputation. Or a career. A spot in the social standing. That irritating innocence. Or the always-so-present pride.

But it is worth losing her heart.

REDEEMER by Kastil Eavenshade:

His family has the wealth and power to give him anything … except approval.

Gianni Bencivenni marks his time in lines of cocaine. One lover is the same as the next within the walls of addiction—until his family puts a contract out on his life. On the run with the last man he wants to be in close quarters with, Gianni has to decide whether his yearning for acceptance and love can overpower his need for a drug-filled haze.

Johnny “Butcher” Mascagni marks the black sins he commits. Death is his profession and ghosts of the dead haunt his waking moments. His penance for the dark life he’s led. Through all the men who have shared his bed, love is a promise that eludes him. When a former lover becomes his last assignment, Butcher must decide if he can set his demons free and open his heart again.

SLICK by Lea Bronsen:

Ex-convict Luke has been fortunate enough to land a small job as a kitchen assistant, but he’s lonely and crippled by baggage from the past.

CEO Roman Spencer also has his share of problems. It doesn’t help that a tough and hot-headed kitchen worker begins to plague his mind…and body.

The more Luke runs into Roman, the more his dark fantasy turns into attraction. If he surrenders, his thug pride will effectively go down the drain.

ADDICTIONS by R. Brennan:

Alexis Harrison is a mess. She’s managed to blow out her knee, lose her scholarship, and get hooked on pain killers. Now she’s playing mule to her dealer, who is her only friend, to support her ever increasing habit.

If something doesn’t change soon, her addiction is going to cost Lexi more than just everything.

BOOK TRAILER

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ABOUT THE AUTHORS

D.C. “Desi” Stone is a best-selling romance author and full-time fraud investigator. She lives in California with her incredibly supporting husband, two kids, and the ever-growing family of cats. After serving eight years of service with the United States Air Force, she went on to transition into the world of financial crimes and became a lead investigator for many years. Reading has always been a passion of hers, getting lost in a good, steamy romance is one of her favorite past times. She soon after discovered her own love for writing and recreating stories and characters in her head. Her writing concentrates on romantic with specifics in paranormal, suspense, and erotica. Now, when she isn’t trying to solve a new puzzle in the world of fraud, she is engulfed with coffee, her laptop, and all those crazy characters in her head. 

Find her on D.C.Stone.com 

Kastil Eavenshade is a multi-published author pandering her romantic shenanigans. When not catering to the whims of three rescued kitties, she's dreaming up her next heart-beating tale. No period in history—past, present, or future—is safe from the clutches of her muse. Her passions beyond writing are drawing, cooking, and watching Pittsburgh Penguins hockey. She credits her parents for her free spirit as they've always supported her in every aspect of her life. Without them, she wouldn't be here. She finds pleasure in writing anything from fantasy to romance-which sometimes parallel each other. 

Find her on Kastil.com 

Award-winning author Lea Bronsen likes her reads hot, fast, and edgy, and strives to give her own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with her debut novel Wild Hearted, she divides her writing time between psychological thriller, romantic suspense, and erotic dark/contemporary romance. 

Find her on LeaBronsen.com

Brennan is a subbie brat with a bitch streak, an IT geek for the state of New York, and reformed gaming addict living in the rolling hills of Upstate NY. (You know, where it takes a ten minute drive to buy a gallon of milk, and the smell of cows lingers on the breeze.) 

Find her on BexBookNook.com

FREE READ

Have you read Lea Bronsen's latest release, the erotic romance short story Play with Me?

It's FREE on Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Barnes and Noble / Kobo / Smashwords / iTunes

Exchange student Myra runs to get away from the heavy class load. When she lands in a male dominated world – a rugby practice in South Wales – and asks to play with the team, she has to prove she’s qualified, in more ways than one.