Pulp Covers

Her husband owned a booze joint, but she was a lush for lust!

From the back:

She was greedy, spoiled, depraved…
his favorite kind of tramp.

“I always wanted to blackmail somebody so I could have him completely in my power,” Lois said, with an impish grin. I had to laugh at her deviltry. “You call that blackmail? It’s nothing more than a threat. And one I am delighted to yield to.”

“No, it’s blackmail. l know a scandal regarding you. I know that you and Rowena Thorpe were in a motel room together for hours. I could tell Caleb Thorpe and he would kill you. Perhaps he would kill Rowena, too. That puts you right in the palm of my hot little hand! Now, you’ll have to do as I say, and l find it a simply delicious sensation.”
I glanced at her and shook my head. “And I find you a mixed-up little sex kitten.”
She laughed and moved close to me on the seat, whispering such hot, sensuous threats that I had to concentrate hard to keep from running off the road.
In the motel room, she continued the farce of the blackmail situation. I decided I might as well go along with it.
Her fascinating demands began at once. She languished on the bed, smiled, and crooked her finger at me.

“Undress me, slave,” she ordered.
In a little while, we were way past the joking stage. It was wild. It was a slow building up to a pulsating crescendo of kisses that were sweet torture, of moaning, of twisting flesh…

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