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Penny Harrigan is a low-level associate in a big Manhattan law firm. She has an apartment, but no love life. When C. Linus Maxwell, a mega-billionaire and international playboy, invites her to dinner and then whisks her off to a hotel in Paris, where he brings her to undreamed-of heights of sexual gratification for days on end, Penny is, well, pleased. However, when Penny discovers she is a test subject for a line of female sex toys so effective that women by the millions are lining up outside the stores to buy it on opening day, she understands the gravity the situation. A billion husbands are about to be replaced. What is Maxwell really up to? Erotically enabled world domination? Penny sets out to discover his motivations, and with a little help, stop him before it is too late.
but crane her neck to see whom they were protecting. Everyone else with a free hand reached straight up, every hand cupping a camera phone, and began to shoot video and pictures from overhead. Penny couldn’t see through the onslaught of blue serge, but she could look up and see the famous face in the screens of the numerous recording devices. The air was loud with electronic clicks. The static and chatter of walkie-talkies. From behind it all came the muffled sound of sobbing. The woman on the
steps away, shouting, “Hold the elevator!” Instead, Monique punched the button to shut the doors. She repeatedly stabbed the button with her bejeweled thumb as if she were sending a distress signal in Morse code. Penny had lived in the Big Apple for six months, and she had yet to see anyone press an elevator button fewer than twenty times. The doors thudded together, mere inches in front of the young lawyer’s aquiline nose, leaving him behind. His name was Tad, and he’d flirted with Penny every
to speak, a shadow of pain seemed to drift across Alouette’s delicate features. Her lips and brow tightened almost imperceptibly. It passed, and her smile returned. Even under her makeup her face looked flushed, and rivulets of sweat flattened strands of hair to her cheeks. She looked a little dazed, Penny thought, but who wouldn’t be? The actress began to say, “Merci,” but winced again. “Alors,” she cried out. She gasped for breath. Hugging the golden award to her chest, she took a step toward
The Baba warned, “The erotic wisdom of the ancients is too much for most who seek it.” She grinned wistfully. “The students trek here to acquire these skills. Many die from the hardships of the journey, but more die by their own hands.” She explained how she would bring them eggs, but they would not eat. She’d invite them to her bed of moss and feathers, but they’d refuse to sleep. “So it goes.” She shrugged with resignation. “I introduce them to a few rudimentary sensual practices, but they are
woman in the church smiled raptly. Clearly Max was bombarding their senses with every enjoyable sensation imaginable. Penny’s mom sighed as if lost in the rapture of fresh-baked brownies. Monique’s eyes slowly closed as if she were carried aloft on a magic carpet of waltz music. Only Penny was exempt from whatever pleasures Max was using to keep the other women docile as the ceremony progressed. Soon she’d become Mrs. C. Linus Maxwell. She’d found her destiny, or it had found her. From this day