The Revenge of Ellie Mae

By Anne Summer

The time is post-war prosperous white Middle America. A time before computers, mobile phones, the internet or 'social media'. In this time it is still possible to live a double life as long as you are a wealthy white male, a time when "The Great Gatsby" was entirely plausible. But occasionally we women get our own back!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anne Summer
• Release date: Jul 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005843793

Anne Summer

We believe that women are emotional and loving rather than just sex-crazed animals. As such, the kind of erotica that we enjoy, perhaps crave, are basically gentle and affectionate rather than simply raunchy, even debauched.Our stories reflect this. Fundamental niceness and a degree of refinement in use of language is what we seek to achieve.Please Welcome my co-author, ? Sandy Sinful (or Sinful Sandy if you like!) Sandy joins me to make our team "Sinful Summer" in celebration of long hot, steamy nights of pleasure, taken in the delight of beautiful, masculine men and sometimes lusty women too! We are here to enjoy and be enjoyed. Sigh!

Book preview

Dear Reader,

The time is post-war prosperous white Middle America. A time before computers, mobile phones, the internet or 'social media'. In this time it is still possible to live a double life as long as you are wealthy, a time when The Great Gatsby was entirely plausible.

The Revenge of Ellie Mae

Walter poked his head around the door, car keys in one hand and carrying case in the other. I maybe late home so don't wait up. Meeting a client at the club for dinner he added unnecessarily by way of explanation.

I gave him a wan smile and turned over in bed, burying my face in the duvet cover, listening until I heard the front door close before sitting up. "Bastard!" I snarled, albeit under my breath. I sat, becoming tense as I heard the garage door roller going up, the engine of his diesel Chevrolet belching into life and the energetic roar of his departure as though he couldn't get away fast enough. He always forgot to close it behind him, beneath his dignity maybe but more likely because he knew that I find it irksome. "Same as just about everything else about him now that I know for certain that my suspicions were right. The telltale residue of of Chanel No9 on yesterday's discarded shirt and a faint, not quite rubbed out trace of lipstick on his underpants, for chrissake!

I'd known he was screwing around again. The usual signs, the abrupt cessation altogether of our irregular and superficially indifferent sex life, his late return home, though he never actually stayed away overnight and his insistence in taking a shower, no matter what the time was. Yes, Walter was screwing around again!

I pulled on my