Anthropologist Spence Banning is researching the effects of primitive tribal music on the civilized human libido. Unfortunately, he lacks the perfect test subject to complete his work on sexual response.
When the primal beats pulse through the vents of her apartment in the middle of the night, Ivy Whitehall awakens in a state of intense arousal. Although she normally avoids confrontation, desperation drives her to seek out the source of the music and demand relief. Their initial sexual encounter is manic, mindless and nameless but afterward Spence convinces Ivy to be his test subject. Though the research is intriguing, Ivy finds her willingness to help is less for the sake of science...and more about strengthening a certain sexual syncopation.
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
Ellora's Cave Publishing, Incorporated
November 13, 2009
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Primal Beat by Marilyn Campbell
Ivy saw the huge backpack and beat-up body bag before she noticed the man holding them. After yet another twelve-hour workday, all she wanted to do was get into her apartment and go to bed but he and his over sized baggage were between her and the old brick building's new security door. "Excuse me," she said after a few seconds of waiting for him to enter or get out of her way.
"This wasn't here when I left," he said, continuing to stare at the door.
"It was installed right after I moved in about a month ago." She had the key in her hand but hesitated to open the door to a stranger.
He turned around. "I swear I live here," he said, guessing her thoughts. The streetlight allowed Ivy to get a shadowed look at his face and, despite the unkempt mass of light brown hair and several days of beard stubble, she sensed no threat. In fact, he looked even more worn-out than she felt. Besides, he was wearing a nice pair of frameless glasses. Stranger or not, she'd always had a weakness for men in glasses.
She smiled, unlocked the door and held it open for him. Since she'd already let him into the building, there was no reason to avoid getting into the elevator with him. She pressed the button and the doors slowly opened.
"Thank you," he said, hauling his bags into the compact elevator after her.
A person's voice often gave her a clue to their personality and she liked the sound of his. Low and masculine without being radio announcer deep, it gave her a funny little shiver. It also gave her a reason to look at him again. "You're welcome," she replied.
And then there was a moment--one of those magical time-stopping moments she'd only seen in movies. When she looked directly into his warm brown eyes, she felt a chord of familiarity strike deep within her, and the way his expression softened told her he'd felt something also.
Or maybe he just thought she was odd for staring at him with her mouth open.
As the elevator doors closed, she tried to think of something to ask so he'd speak again, but small talk was not one of her talents.
What would Mel say? Ivy's friend was never at a loss for words and was always bugging her to be more sociable. She said the only thing that came to mind. "Business or pleasure?"
He was studying her face, frowning a bit, like he was trying to remember where he'd seen her before. "I...I'm sorry. What did you say?"
She felt her cheeks warm but couldn't take the question back. "I noticed your, uh, luggage. I didn't mean to be nosy."
He dragged his gaze away from her to his bags. "Oh, yes." He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, causing his glasses to lift up and down before he explained. "I just flew in from New Zealand. I'm not even sure what day it is."
Ivy's interest raised a notch but the elevator arrived on her floor and she had no practical reason to linger. "It's Friday," she said and stepped out. As the doors closed behind her, she realized he hadn't pressed any of the buttons for himself. Surely he would find his way to his apartment eventually but she wished she had seen the floor so she could accidentally get off there one day. She dismissed the unusual thought as a product of being overtired.
Although "dinner" had consisted of a can of tuna and a bag of chips from the vending machine, she needed sleep more than a hot meal. She expected to doze right off the instant her head nestled into her pillow. Instead, the image of a very attractive, albeit somewhat scruffy, man was keeping her from completely relaxing.
Ivy liked men...in general. And she wasn't completely averse to having one in her life. She simply hadn't dated anyone worth the inconvenience. Mel insisted that was Ivy's fault, that she didn't "put herself out there". Though Ivy admitted that was true, she couldn't stir up the nerve to do it.
In the meantime, on the few occasions she felt the urge for a sexual release or just needed a little help falling asleep, she could take care of it herself. All she needed was her imagination.
The mysterious stranger was the perfect character. The cramped elevator was the ideal location. She just needed to alter the reality a bit.