The Collector- An
Anthology Re-released!
By Kay Jaybee
It's
been ten years since I first wrote my linked anthology style novel, The Collector, and almost eight years
since it was first published.
Recently
the rights to the original books manuscript returned to me, and so I decided to
re-edit the whole book, give it a brand new cover, and to add in 2 HOT NEW
STORIES!
With
the re-release of this, my very first solo full length piece on the 17th
May, I’ve found myself looking back to The
Collector’s origins. It all began one early morning sat in a crowded coffee
shop at Heathrow airport, while I was talking to a very dear friend on the
phone, while awaiting a flight.
It
was due to that brief conversation that, not only was the idea for The Collector conceived, but that I
privately made the decision to stay in the world of erotica writing, and not
branch out to try my luck with other genres.
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?
Before
writing The Collector I’d already had
a far number of short stories published, and was bursting with plenty of ideas
for new ones. However, I wanted to write something longer; something that was
as long as a novella or short novel, but which had the variety of an anthology.
I
digress...so there I was sat sipping coffee at the airport when my friend
called me. All he said down the phone was “go buy The Observer newspaper.”
Curious, I did just that, and there, between a front cover shot of Joan
Collins, and a back cover advert for new encyclopaedia’s, was an article all
about female erotica writers.
Back
then, erotica was an even more of a hidden world than it is now, and as I read
I knew I wanted to stay part of it. Enthused with new zip and a determination
to be every bit as successful as those brave women revealing their secret
writing persona’s to the press, I extracted my ever ready notebook from my bag,
and began to look at the people around me. I wanted to write- but where to start?
As I watched the ever moving crowd, I began to wonder what each individual would
want me to write for them. What would their fantasies be? What kinky secrets of
their own would they share given half the chance?
It
was from these musings that the idea for The
Collector was born. A book of stories ‘collected’ by a woman in pursuit of
as many sexual exploits as she could. And what better way to start, than to combine
my own dream to one day be a successful writer of erotica, and the fantasy of
one of my other friends, who (like so many others, be they male or female)
visualises being picked up by a beautiful intelligent woman for sex in a no
strings attached way. This story became, New
Territory, the first of kinky work within The Collector; a tale which had been completely drafted by the time
my plane reached its destination.
My
search then began in earnest for interesting triggers, ideas, and sexy dreams,
to turn into stories. Some very short to stimulate the readers imagination,
such as Jay (a lesbian night club
orgy) and Crushed (an interesting way
to pass the time in a bar queue). Others much longer, such as Sweets (a must read if you like
liquorice) and Treasure (a young
man’s dream come true!).
I
knew it would be a gamble including the very short tales- as they either really
appeal, or really frustrate- but on the whole the feedback from my reader’s has
been good. It would also be true to say, the shorter stories were much harder
to write than the longer ones, but were a lot of fun to construct around the
fantasy’s I gleaned from my sources of research.
So-
how much of The Collector did I
really collect? Well- that would be telling, but if I haven’t thanked my
sources of inspiration already, then I do now!
It
has been a joy to add 2 new stories to the mix! So, if you have already read
The Collector, there is something new for you to discover within its pages in
the shape of The Scottish Fantasy and
Wrong.
The Collector
is available as an e-book. It will be available as a paperback very soon!
Buy
Links
Extract
- 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...
Bio
For over a decade Kay
Jaybee has lived a nomadic existence across the British Isles, collecting
stories as she travels.
Kay Jaybee was named
Best Erotica Writer of 2015 by the ETO, and was nominated in 2013,2014 and 2016
Kay received an
honouree mention at the NLA Awards 2015 for excellence in BDSM writing.
Kay Jaybee wrote 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.
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