Release date: 17 February 2014
In Edith Wharton’s Pulitzer-Prize-winning novel, The Age of Innocence, adapted by Coco Rousseau, May and Newland Archer, a turn-of-the-century upper class couple in New York Society are now joined in matrimony. Although Society expects Newland to honor his marital vows and remain faithful, the love triangle with Newland’s society-obsessed, superficial wife, May, and the beautiful, scandalous Countess Olenska continues to complicate Newland’s existence. Will he find happiness with May? Or will his unbridled lust and love for the Countess keep him entangled in the web despite what society might think of them?
Does the Countess Olenska possess Newland Archer mind, body, and soul? Or will May Archer, the devoted wife, win back her wayward husband?
Let intrigue, passion, and lust be your guides as you reach the conclusion of the once hidden, but now open sensual story of The Age of Innocence.
Wild and Wanton
Sensuality Level: Spicy
Coco Rousseau lives in Paris, France. When not partaking of nightlife and fashionable parties, she spends her days strolling through museums, drinking cappuccino in outdoor cafes, and writing romance novels in her penthouse apartment on Avenue des Champs-Élysées.
An excerpt from The Age of Innocence: The Wild and Wanton Edition, Volume 2:
The day was fresh, with a lively spring wind full of dust. All the old ladies in both families had got out their faded sables and yellowing ermines, and the smell of camphor from the front pews almost smothered the faint spring scent of the lilies banking the altar.
Newland Archer, at a signal from the sexton, had come out of the vestry and placed himself with his best man on the chancel step of Grace Church.
The signal meant that the brougham bearing the bride and her father was in sight; but there was sure to be a considerable interval of adjustment and consultation in the lobby, where the bridesmaids were already hovering like a cluster of Easter blossoms. During this unavoidable lapse of time the bridegroom, in proof of his eagerness, was expected to expose himself alone to the gaze of the assembled company; and Archer had gone through this formality as resignedly as through all the others which made of a nineteenth century New York wedding a rite that seemed to belong to the dawn of history. Everything was equally easy—or equally painful, as one chose to put it—in the path he was committed to tread, and he had obeyed the flurried injunctions of his best man as piously as other bridegrooms had obeyed his own, in the days when he had guided them through the same labyrinth.
This should have been the happiest day of his life, but all Newland could think about was the last time he had seen Countess Olenska—his Ellen. Only a month ago, when he had visited Ellen at her quaint house and they had made love, he believed after he departed her company he would never be intimate with her again. She told him that she could not love him unless she gave him up, that he had changed her view of life. She had not realized how vile she was regarded by society, and she was thankful to him because he had changed all the ill cast down upon her with his good deeds and kindness. She said that she could not go back to her old ways of thinking. She had falsely believed that running to America to be with her own kind would allow her to be free, to be able to live the kind of life she wanted, but he made her realize that the divorce she sought would only create scandal. It would ruin not only her reputation, but also the reputation of her family and friends. In essence, he had saved her. When they parted that night, they bid each other a sad farewell.