Saturday, July 30, 2011
Elaine Lowe is back with a sizzling new book, her sixth, called Magic Eights. It's part of Elora's Cave's series Quickies.
Blurb: A casual wish by a frustratingly horny wife results in a most unexpected bit of magic...Susanna walks into her kitchen to see two copies of her husband William of eight years. When they both seduce her, she's helpless to resist. Who would want to? When another copy walks in and makes love to her, and another, she ceases to ask why-- only how much can she take?
Seven copies, one original, and all of them want to push her to the very brink. Can she handle them all? Sinful satisfaction is the best anniversary present, and eight is Susanna's lucky number.
Elaine Lowe is a work-at-home mom in Silicon Valley California. Of her many part-time jobs, her favorite one by far is writing. She has a background in biotech, but she has branched out into the demanding world of home management, toddler entertainment, transcription, envelope stuffing, and of course, writing romantic and erotic fiction.
A love of history, magic and romance combines to inspire a lot of her writing. That and her wonderful husband, who is a fantastic sounding board, support system, and research consultant. He really enjoys research. And so does she.
Blowing a frizzy strand of reddish-brown hair from in front of her face, Susanna Walker-Wong tried valiantly to relax into the suds of her bath. Truly soothing rose and chamomile scents floated into the hot air of the bathroom, and hot water always relaxed away the tension she held in her shoulders. But all these luxurious bubbles and steam didn't really get to the core of her problem.
She was horny. Despite, or perhaps because of all the stresses in her life, she was ready to burst with the need for someone to touch her. Well, not just someone. It would be really fabulous if her husband would get a clue and look up from his computer screen long enough to notice her panting after him.
But instead, she took a bath. Really, she shouldn't be this desperate. It was their eighth anniversary, and that morning their son had been taken to his grandparents' house where he was likely being spoiled rotten. For lunch, she had been the entree and Will had worshipped her thoroughly before taking her out to a sumptuous dinner that they'd enjoyed and debated like the foodies they were. It should have been perfect, she should have been completely satisfied.
Her career was humming along, though she was only working on contract, part-time, with Nathan being only four years old and just starting preschool. Yeah, the dishes needed to be done, and there was yard-work that begged to be finished and the floor required vacuuming desperately. But if she ever finished her entire “to do” list, she'd be dead, right? She should be completely content.
So why was she absolutely burning with lust? Every time William breathed, she watched the rise and fall of his chest and wanted to tear off his T-shirt and run her hands over his pecs and lick his nipples until he groaned. She wanted to thread her hands in the blue-black of his unkempt hair and tousle it even more while she pulled his lips to hers. She wanted to knock his laptop to the ground and climb astride him and ride him until he screamed her name and woke up the neighbors in the next condo.
She moved slightly to get her shoulders deeper into the water and relieve the tension there. The soft rose scent of the bubbles fluttered up to try to console her, mixing with the subtle spiciness from Esme's present. She sighed, her hands drifting over her clit, only to retreat quickly to her side when the door swung open.
Will stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the soap-obscured view of her naked body and flashing her a brief but devastating grin that still made her heart go pitter-patter.
"Hello, my water nymph. How do you find your bath? And is that incense I smell?" He turned away from her and to the toilet, nonchalantly taking a piss, while she observed the curve of his ass in the ancient pair of khaki shorts that he wore.
"Bath's searing hot, just like this nymph likes it. And no, the scent is something Esme sent us for our anniversary." She looked him up and down. "Care to join me?" Her voice dripped with invitation, but she knew he didn't share her particular fetish for baths.
"You've got to be kidding me! It's like ninety-five in the house, and it's only going to get hotter. How you can stand to take a hot bath in this weather is beyond my ken!" With a drip and a zip and a quick wash of his hands, he turned back to her, his eyes eating her up and making her throb even more than she had been. With his dark shining eyes carrying that edge of lust and his wicked goatee reminding her how much she liked the drag of his chin against her thighs, she was practically melting with need for him. But she didn't let it show. Her appetite for him was simply ridiculous after all the years they'd been together and she'd never been completely comfortable letting it all out. He was everything she ever wanted, and she didn't feel like scaring him off now.