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All That's Magic [MultiFormat]
eBook by A. J. Cove
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eBook Category: Dark Fantasy
eBook Description: Prequel to A Darker Magic *** Sheelagh Magee (alias Sheila Gibson) of the Emerald Isle Faeries is enjoying her status and wealth as president of Bare Pleasures, a company known for its production of phenomenal intimate products for women. And with her newest invention, the Pleasure Bra and Panties, she is raking in millions. But with great success comes enemies--especially since the workings of Sheila's products can't be explained by modern science. Drake Corbon is one of the men affected by Sheila's monopoly. In fact, her mother was the sole cause of his grandfather having to file bankruptcy years before. Drake is now out for revenge. His plan? Do seduce the sexy Fae and bring her to her knees, before exposing her for the fraud she is. But when strange accidents keep happening every time they are together, Drake begins to realize Sheila has more enemies than either of them imagined. And he could get to the bottom of it, if only he could keep his hands off her delicious body.
eBook Publisher: Amira Press, Published: 2007
Fictionwise Release Date: December 2007
Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [602 KB], eReader (PDB) [196 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [193 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [171 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [216 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [213 KB], hiebook (KML) [442 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [258 KB], iSilo (PDB) [159 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [197 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [253 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [260 KB]
Words: 61098
Reading time: 174-244 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED
ISBN: 978-1-934475-31-7
 
"Ms. Gibson, why did you create the Pleasure Bra and Panties?" A reporter for the Daily News shoved a mic under Sheila's nose, with an expectant look in her eyes. How many times had she heard that before? Wasn't it obvious? Men just couldn't do the deed well enough or last long enough. A woman needed a man as much as she needed a migraine. "Well, as I'm sure you know, we women are very busy with life--our careers, our families. Sometimes, when the mood strikes, we aren't in a convenient place to get a little action. Am I right, ladies?" She glanced around the small crowd of men and women surrounding her. There were nods and "I know that's right" from several directions. "And let's face it," she said, pausing for emphasis and running her fingertips along the outer edge of her blouse, "the pickings have become slim. We may not have a man to satisfy us when we come home at night." This time the consensus was a depressing grunt. Sheila would have liked having someone in her life. She was often assessed in the media as being a man-hater, but she was far from it. Sure, she didn't trust a man as far as she could toss his lying, cheating backside, but she wanted one all the same. That hungry desire led her to the creation of her intimate undies, which women were snapping up as fast as their credit cards could be swiped. Of course, she couldn't tell them that. It would be opening up her vulnerabilities to the world. No, instead she purported herself to be the woman's woman, and the image was paying in the millions. As Sheila twisted to field the next question, her attention was caught by a man at the back of the crowd, near the street. Although she was sure she'd never before seen the expressionless face peering out from the forest-green hooded cape, recognition shot through her. The feeling was unwelcome, and a tremor of fear shot down her spine. With effort, she focused again on the swarm of reporters. Another stepped forward. "So what exactly does your bra and panties do, Ms. Gibson? What makes it so different from others? I mean it's got to be special at one hundred dollars a set." She grinned, lifting a hand habitually to be sure her hair was in place along the sides of her face. "Oh yes, my friend, they are special. Inside each cup of the bra, and placed strategically along the panties, is what I like to call feelers. No, pinchers? Hmm, certainly caressers." She paused again deliberately. There were lonely, horny women in the audience and glued to their TV set hoping Sheila really was offering something they'd never before experienced. And she was. "Let me say it like this, Mr. Sumner," she said, recognizing the reporter most often found in her press conferences or dogging her steps wherever she went, Peter Sumner. "My little secrets stroke a woman in just the right place, between her legs. They tease her nipples to stimulate her body. But they go much further than what is on the market today. They're not vibrators. No, far superior to that. "My little secrets reach out and gently tug at a woman's nipples, playing with them until she reaches that pinnacle of delight that we all wish to experience. To be mindful of your audience, sir, I will not go into detail of what happens in the panties." "If you ask me, I'd say it's just plain wrong. To take the place of a real relationship is going too far." An older woman spoke from the middle of the crowd, her voice contorted in anger, her graying hair escaping its confines at points around her head. "You're nothing but a hussy, miss." Sheila was not perturbed. "I'm so sorry, ma'am. I cannot please everyone. I realize that. Tell you what--why don't you call my offices tomorrow morning, and I'll see what I can do for you?" The woman's anger immediately subsided. Sheila smiled. Just as she suspected. The woman couldn't afford the high price. She'd struggled over the cost, but her marketing experts had assured her it was fair. "Surely, you're worried about offending the men, Ms. Gibson. I've heard you have received death threats." "One or two, but I'm not worried. Listen, this is for everyone. A man can enjoy watching his woman satisfy herself with my product. It makes for more interesting bedroom activity. I assure you, no one has ever been hurt from my products. Now, please, I must get back to work. Thank you all for your time." * * * *Like, hell, no one has ever been hurt by her products! Drake watched her in disgust, his anger threatening to overflow at her easy confidence. No, it was arrogance. She made out like she had just what every woman needed while sticking her greedy hands in their pockets and bleeding them dry. Just like her mother! He'd bring down her company, Bare Pleasures, one way or another. He had it all planned. She had it coming. As beautiful as Sheila Gibson was, with her thick black waves, unfashionably long, hanging midway down her back, and her voluptuous figure, he would resist her lure and make her pay. As he watched her, someone blocked his view, and he stepped right to bring the evil witch into view again. He hit a solid force and turned to offer his apologies. The weirdo in the forest-green hoodie, made of a material too heavy for mid-summer, was fully absorbed in watching Sheila Gibson. The man muttered, "She's gone too far. Something must be done," made Drake wonder just how many enemies Ms. Gibson had made. Drake glanced at his enemy, then back at the man at his side. The stranger was gone.
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