Thanks
so much for inviting me over today as your guest, Wendi
.
I’m really excited because as part of
Total-E-Bound’s Clandestine Classic range. I’ve teamed up with Edgar Rice Burroughs and added steamy jungle scenes to
TARZAN OF THE APES. This is only one of several classics brought to life by
various Total-E-Bound authors and inserts the sexiness that readers previously
had to use their imagination for.
Blurb
A wild man with primitive desires, will
anyone be able to tame him?
A handsome English aristocrat raised in the
jungle by apes, self-sufficient, thriving on danger and with a head full of
unanswered questions. Where is he from? Why is he different? What will satisfy
the hunger that eats away at the very core of his being and finally feed his
appetite for something other than food and shelter?
A delicate American woman, expected to be
the best she can be and marry well, but with a craving for adventure and
exploration as well as a hope in her heart to find true love with a man who can
sweep her off her feet.
When the two very different souls collide,
in deepest, darkest Africa, only one thing can happen, and it’s raw and feral.
Lust a common language, satisfaction the ultimate goal. But will the gentleman
outshine the savage-man? Is virtue to be honoured? And when faced with a
civilised decision, can Tarzan do the right thing?
Excerpt
So
Tarzan of the Apes did the only thing he knew to assure Jane of her safety. He
removed his hunting knife from its sheath and handed it to her hilt first,
again motioning her into the bower.
The
girl understood, and taking the long knife she entered and lay down upon the
soft grasses while Tarzan of the Apes stretched himself upon the ground across
the entrance.
Here
she lay, gazing upward at the crude roof of the shelter, and mulled over the
extraordinary day that had unfolded, and the wild man who had stolen the first
kiss from her lips. Although Jane was an innocent woman she was not naive in
the ways of married couples. What went on behind closed doors and beneath the
covers was something she was completely intrigued by and she’d sought to quell
her curiosity in the only way she could. For Jane, like Tarzan, adored reading,
and fashionable books about love and romance that hinted and suggested at the
many delights to be had between a woman and a man were her most favourite
material—she’d been thrilled to find two such books within the primitive cabin.
She
sat and began to unlace her shoes, her hair just skimming the greenery above
her. As her small and nimble fingers unweaved the soft leather laces her gaze
settled on Tarzan’s broad, golden back as he lay, facing away from her, staring
into the line of trees. The gutter of his spine was deep set and flanked with
columns of strong muscle. He had a few scars and imperfections around his
shoulders, marks of his wild lifestyle, and at the very base of his back, just
before the doeskin-like loin cloth he wore, were two dents, almost dimples.
Jane
couldn’t help but linger over the task of removing her shoes, the sight before
her was simply too engrossing. She had never seen a man wearing so little
clothing. The scrap he wore around his modesty barely covered his buttocks,
indeed she could make out the very groove of his cheeks through the material.
Her gaze roamed downward, committing to memory his powerful thighs coated in
sandy hairs, calves sinewy with tendon and muscle and long feet that she was
quite sure had never been within spitting distance of a shoe until now.
Footwear
finally removed, she pushed them outside her small shelter.
Upon
hearing her movement Tarzan turned, his body twisting, his face a mask of
concern.
“I
am quite all right,” Jane said, gesturing to her shoes. “But I really can’t
sleep in those.”
Tarzan
looked at the shoes, then sat and reached for one. He held it up, turned it
over, examined the base and the inside, poking and prodding. Finally he lifted
it to his nose and inhaled, long and deep.
“No,”
said Jane, snatching it away. “Really, that is most untoward and really quite
rude.”
Tarzan
tugged his hand back, fingers clenched, his expression evidence enough that he
knew not what he had done wrong.
Jane,
seeing his confusion, took pity on him. For she understood that he was trying
very hard to make her feel at ease, and she should surely return the favour.
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching for his hand that was in a fist at his sternum.
“It is just that they are the only shoes I have, and I, well, I fear I may not
have been able to keep them as fresh as I would like.” As she spoke she
squeezed his big hand in hers. His skin was a little sticky from the copious
amounts of juicy fruit they had shared, but even so a current of pleasure shot
up her arm and settled in her belly. His hand, nearly twice the size of hers,
was so masculine, and so strong. Unlike Clayton’s neatly trimmed nails,
Tarzan’s were unevenly short, no doubt from wear and tear, and he had a twisted
strip of vine around his wrist, a kind of makeshift bracelet, it was like
nothing she had seen before.
He
allowed her to keep holding his hand and tipped his head, his gaze boring into
hers.
“It
is just,” she went on, “that bathing facilities since we landed ashore have
been considerably less than adequate. What I really long for is fresh water to
sink my entire body into, to make me feel refreshed and rejuvenated and get
some relief from this tropical heat.” Knowing he understood not a word, she tutted
and released his hand. Frustration ploughed lines across her brow.
Tarzan
raised his eyebrows and wiggled his fingers in a ‘carry-on’ gesture.
“Oh,”
she said with a sigh. “What I really want to be able to do is wash.” As she
spoke she cupped her palms and raised them to her face, mimicking splashing
water on her cheeks.
Tarzan’s
face lit up. He knew instantly what Jane was trying to say. She wanted to clean
her body. Tarzan understood that desire very well, for he too liked to bathe
frequently to keep his body free from irritations and unpleasant aromas. He had
also read about it in his books. Civilised people set personal cleanliness in
very high esteem.
Eager
to show Jane his comprehension of her request, Tarzan jumped up and pointed in
the direction of Cumba, the small rocky inlet just yards to the right of their
camp. It was a safe and shallow bathing area that he had used since being a
small boy. He was sure it would be perfect for a woman, for his woman, Jane.
He
made a grunting sound which his ape family would have recognised as ‘come this
way’ and stepped toward Cumba.
“Do
you understand me?” Jane asked, amazement in her tone and her eyes wide.
Tarzan
stepped further away, urging her to follow with frantic hand gestures.
“You
want me to come with you?” Jane asked, crawling completely from the shelter and
standing barefoot on the roughly textured grass.
Without
realising he was giving the correct signal, Tarzan nodded.
“Okay,”
Jane said, pressing down the creases in her dress and tilting her chin in a
very confident little gesture given her precarious situation. “I will. Please
lead the way.”
Tarzan
grinned, flashing his neat teeth, and strode across the clearing. In order to
keep up Jane quickly realised that she must move at a near jog. Though once
they reached the denseness of the forest this was impossible, and Tarzan slowed
in order to move branches and bend bows out of her path.
Jane
was thankful when after a couple of minutes of thick undergrowth another
clearing emerged. This time one with a large rock pool fed from a sparkling
waterfall. She heard it first, the tinkling sound of water falling on stone,
and when she finally laid eyes on it, she paused to marvel at the sheer beauty
of the small lagoon.
High
above the sky was turning pink. Dusk would soon be upon them. In the tallest
branches, bright red and blue parrots were preparing to roost. The rocks around
the waterfall were the colour of elephant skin, and the water, a rich navy,
sparkled silver where the cascading water added to its depths.
“It
is beautiful,” Jane said, her fingertips sweeping over the petals of a crimson
orchid that bobbed its long neck to her right. “Simply exquisite.”
Lily Harlem
