"Much better," Pru said looking up. "Gorgeous. Sexy. Perfect."
Judy snorted. "For a middle-age, over-weight woman, you mean."
Pru ignored the comment and handed Judy a shoebox.
"Here. These, as the retired southern gentleman I left in Greece would say, are the coottie-graws." Her wink said the butchering of the French pronunciation was intentional. "Five-inch platforms with--"
"Diamond-encrusted ankle bands," Judy exclaimed. "Holy shit. You've got to be kidding. I'll kill myself in these."
"You'll be fine. They're platforms. I wore them every day on the ship."
Every day? What kind of cruise was this? Judy almost asked. Instead, she zipped the cleverly designed cuff in place and stood. To her shock, the shoes were more comfortable than they looked, and once she got her balance, she managed to walk without twisting an ankle. "Being taller is cool. They're empowering. Were they as expensive as they look?"
"Don't ask." Pru checked her watch. "I should be going soon. By the way, I brought you a coat, too. You can't wear that pilled jersey robe you call a cover-up with a getup this sexy."
She pointed at a calf-length, belted, black leather trench coat draped like a boneless leopard across a nearby chair. Judy sent it a token glance.
As if I could fit into Pru's Barbie clothes. My cover-up's not that bad. "So, what do you think of my selection of goodies? "
Pru picked up the riding quirt and whipped it back and forth for effect. The silvery hissing sound made the hair on the back of Judy's neck lift.
"This isn't bad, but half the tassels are missing. Did a mouse gnaw on it?"
Judy shrugged. "Shouldn't. I have a cat."
"Who is lazy and overfed, apparently."
She tossed the little whip, which Shawn pretentiously had insisted on calling a tawse, toward what Judy assumed was their "keeper" pile. If anyone asked her ex the meaning of the word, Shawn would launch into a windy discourse on Scottish schoolmasters and corporal punishment--acts Shawn had demanded from their lovemaking more and more often before they split. One of the last things she clearly remembered him saying as he bent her over a chair was, "Prepare yourself, woman, as I chastise you with my God rod."
"My basket's a cool idea, though, isn't it?" Buddy had ordered the gift online from a store way outside Judy's price range. It had come packed full of specialty treats and culinary goodies they'd shared over the course of several "dates." And now I'm using it to transport sex toys to his son's hotel room. The thought probably should have upset her more than it did. But the fact remained: if Buddy hadn't taken a little blue pill against his doctor's advice and clocked out of life while having sex with her, none of this would be happening. So, in a way, this was all Buddy's fault, not Judy's.
Pru held up a loose, black hood with obvious disdain before letting it drop in the not-happening pile. She handed a medium-size flesh tone dildo, fur-lined handcuffs, elasticized mask and fistful of white cotton ropes of various lengths to Judy to store in the basket. She continued sorting for several minutes then let out a sigh.
"Something wrong?"
"Who knew you were such a traditionalist?" She picked up her briefcase-size black leather purse. "Luckily, I brought a few things from home."
She opened the sides and dumped everything on the bed.
Judy blinked in surprise. A few of the items made sense: the gleaming stainless steel spatula, the large slotted serving spoon with a wide, shallow surface and a pair of elbow-length black rubber gloves. But the wire whisk and garlic press demanded an explanation.
"Do I even dare ask?"
Pru grabbed the whisk and returned it to the purse. "Never mind. But the press stays. Depending on the size of his balls, some men find this pleasurable." She made a face. "That is your objective, right? To prove to Lewis that having sex with you is worth dying for?"
"No," Judy cried, slapping both hands to her face and shaking her head. "I don't plan to fuck the man. I simply want to use his sexual proclivity to prove he's more like Buddy than he cares to admit. And more important, he needs to see that I'm not the bad guy here. I didn't coerce Buddy into having sex with me. He swallowed that little blue pill because he wanted to go out with a bang."
"No pun intended."
More Bang!
XOXO
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed the fourth and final book in my Screw Senility series. Judy Banger's stories were great fun to write--very liberating, creatively-speaking. If you missed any of the saga, you'll find excerpts and links attached. If you're the kind of reader who doesn't feel complete without a print version of your favorite ebook, please keep an eye out for my combined, 4-book Screw Senility Anthology, which will be released soon via CreateSpace. The print version will be slightly less naughty--consider it an R-rated version.
I am extremely fortunate to have supportive friends who helped me complete this series. Jackie Maxwell, your sharp eye and generous heart, made copyediting fun--mostly. Francine Smiley, I appreciate your keen proofreading skills. Patti Metz, thank you for taking Jan's place by reading--and liking--my work.
I'll confess. Judy Banger butted--no pun intended--her way into my writing line-up. The first series in my epublishing book queue was supposed to be a romantic-suspense with a paranormal aspect: think Moonlighting meets the Ghost Whisperer. But once Judy got into my head, the woman would not quit hounding me to write, write, write her story. I didn't see a Happily-Ever-After in the works for her, but apparently she did. I'm glad she persevered. Writing her ending reminded me to appreciate the many blessings in my life, including my personal hero, Paul--who makes it possible for me to live my own HEA.
But, now, I'm back to work on my K.A.B. Investigations series. Book I -- LIAR, will be followed by CHEATER and THIEF. And in October, my short romance, MY CHRISTMAS ANGEL (with a new, heart-melting ending) will be part of On Fire Fiction's 5-author anthology CELEBRATE! You are going to love these heartwarming stories from five top-selling authors.
Happy reading, my friends,
Deb
Connect with Debra
Debra Salonen is the award-winning, nationally top-selling author of 27 series romance novels for Harlequin's Superromance and American lines. Most of her backlist titles have been digitized and are now available for purchase. In 2006, Debra was named "Series Storyteller of the Year" by RomanticTimes Book Reviews. Her May 2010 release, UNTIL HE MET RACHEL, was honored as "Best Superromance of 2010."
For more information about her exciting new publishing endeavors, including her “K.A.B. - Karma’s A Bitch-Investigations” romantic-suspense series, which opens this fall with LIAR, please visit her website at http://www.debrasalonen.com. Don't forget to sign up for her blog.
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The Big Bang! Theory - A fourth--and final--short, erotic encounter of the Judy Banger kind Page 13
