Publisher's Synopsis
Emily Flint, a tall, lanky brunette with large wanton eyes, sprung forward from the flowered couch. My eyes followed her careless movement, almost anticipating a fall. But she instead twirled to a balance, flung open her terry-cloth robe and faced me, defiantly. Her delicate, cream-colored bra and panties were pretty, very feminine; I would not have labeled them as provocative, though, just in good taste. Yet her stance suggested an attitude that would have excited even the most prudent of men... ...Blue eyes flashed from within a halo of brown. The terry-cloth robe dropped to her sides as she tugged out a chair from the nearby table and plopped herself into it. Pulling the lid off some petroleum jelly, she then plunged in her finger and ran the greasy substance across her colored lips. Pushing her hair to the side resulted in a glob that seemed to hang. She didn't notice. I didn't mention it.
