I need a shower. Or something.
A writer I love recently recommended a book by a friend of hers. I thought it would be in the same vein – light, fun, romantic, but not graphic. There’s sex in the beloved writer’s books, but it’s all “off screen.”
After I started this new one, I commented to a friend that there was an awful lot of sexual tension pretty early in the story which made me wary of how graphic it would be when the hero and heroine gave in to the inevitable.
I was right to have trepidations.
I finished the book, because it was a good story, well-written, with great characters and a charming setting.
I don’t really want to know how all their parts fit together in the shower, in the bed, on the washing machine, on the floor, and in the car.
So … ewww. It wasn’t quite erotica, but pretty darn close.
No, I’m not exaggerating.
I’m not even going to tell you the name of the book or the author. At least not here. If you’re dying to know, you can ask me and I’ll likely tell you.
So now I know that, while the author is very good, she’s not for me.
And I’m worried that the writer who recommended it is going to drift into that graphic territory.
I sure hope not. There’s little enough out there that’s seriously good without the sex.
But you already knew that.
Thanks for reading!