The Joys Of Marketing And PR

Guest post provided by K D Grace.

With the power of social media, the rise of self-publishing and the popularity of eBooks, more and more PR and marketing is falling into the author’s lap. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say I spend a good third of my time on PR and marketing – sometimes more. I have two websites and a popular blog which gets updated at least four times a week. I’m on Facebook and Twitter multiple times during the day. Oh, I’m not a surfer. If I’m online it’s because I’m working. I’ll be honest, I’d much rather be writing stories.

The good news is that the same elements that bite into my writing time offer me much more control over that essential PR and marketing than I would have had even ten years ago. Obviously SourceBooks’ PR and marketing folks have been incredibly helpful by booking me blog tours and putting The Initiation of Ms Holly out for early reviews, but I have to be willing to run with what they offer me. That means writing blog posts, doing chats, tweeting and using FaceBook and Pinterest. That means constantly generating new content for my blog and making sure people are aware of my latest news. That means me doing everything I can to make sure people know my name and know the K D Grace brand.

I learned early on that I’m not just selling my novels, but I’m selling K D Grace. More than that, I’m building a relationship with readers. I love to read as much as I love to write, and if I find an author whose work I really enjoy, I want to know more about her. I don’t just want to know writing stuff, but I want to know her hobbies, her funny stories, what she loves, what she hates, what her favourite colour is. I want to know all of those things PLUS I want to know the story behind why her character did what they did and what inspired her to write such a tail.

The Initiation of Ms Holly was inspired by being stuck in the dark in a malfunctioning train in the Eurostar Tunnel while trying not to think about the gazillion gallons of the English Channel above my head. That’s unique; my readers like that I know exactly how Rita Holly feels in those opening scenes of the novel.

Beyond that, all of my fans know that I grow my own veg and that I have a reputation for writing what they refer to as ‘garden porn.’ They also know that I love the outdoors and I love to walk. In fact I love it so much I walked across England, from coast to coast with my husband. Neither of those two tidbits have anything to do with The Initiation of Ms Holly, nor with my writing. But they give my readers a chance to know me better. I want my readers to know me. I want them to follow me on Twitter and friend me on Facebook. I want to be on their minds. I want them to follow my blog and check out my website, and make comments so I get to know them. All of these things are under my control, all of these things I can give to my readers so that we can build a relationship. With the landscape in publishing changing so rapidly, every day it becomes more and more likely that more and more of that relationship, that brand building, that making myself and my work known and easily available will be my responsibility

With the meteoric success of Fifty Shades of Grey, erotic romance has taken up residence on the bookstore shelves alongside the rest of the romance genre, which is nothing but good news. The popularity of eBook readers has also boosted the demand and sales for erotica of all sorts, by offering anonymity to readers — though with the more subtle covers, that’s becoming less of an issue. Having said that, one of the very best things eBook readers have done is offer readers of all genre instant gratification at the tap of a finger. That makes having a strong, easily Googleable online presence even more essential for all authors, since not only are sales of eBooks dwarfing print book sales, but the profit margin for authors is greater with eBooks. Having said that, there’s still nothing like the feel of a print book.

One of the unique situations erotica writers deal with in their efforts at marketing and PR is that though no one would imagine Thomas Harris had to become a cannibalistic serial killer in order to write The Silence of the Lambs, an amazing number of people tend to think that surely we erotica writers must have done everything in our stories before we wrote them. While it’s true, I was stuck in a train, you can be confident that I didn’t have nearly as much fun there as Rita Holly did. Neither have I ever had sex on a Harley while careening down a British motorway. As for being a part of a secret sex cult, well it would hardly be secret if I told you, now would it.

20549484K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she is, otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening. When she’s not gardening, she’s walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband have walked Coast to Coast across England, along with several other long-distance routes. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She also enjoys martial arts, reading, watching the birds and anything that gets her outdoors.

K D has erotica published with SourceBooks, Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include The Initiation of Ms Holly and The Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel, Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether and Elemental Fire, are now also available. She was nominated for ETO’s Best Erotic Author 2013.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive Decision, Identity Crisis, and The Exhibition are all available.

Click here to read my review of The Initiation Of Ms. Holly.

Animals Humping In The Wild

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My Rating: 2/5 Stars

I think it’s a damn shame more men don’t get accosted on trains. Ladies, you’re missing out on one hell of an opportunity. And fellas…what the hell? We need to rectify this situation immediately. If you’re a woman, you should strut like it’s your birthday…every single day. Having confidence is the key, and that confidence just might lead to more men being shoved into bathrooms and waylaid in sleeper cars. There’s a reason God created man first: If God had started with Eve, he would have clapped his hands together and said, “I think we’re done here.” Fellas, we wouldn’t even be a blip on the intergalactic radar. And it’s all because women have bodies that just don’t quit. Even God knows this.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say THE INITIATION OF MS. HOLLY was written by a teenage boy. A teenage boy who wrote frantically, pounding away at the keys like some untamed beast, and grasping for every orgy and orifice he could think of. This was basically one long porn fantasy with dominance and subservience included for good measure. All the women were perfect with tits the size of watermelons, or smaller, perkier breasts with perfect precision and icicle nipples and tanned skin and luscious lips. Not that I can rightfully complain, mind you, but I felt like with every page I was about to get arrested, tossed in a government prison, and held hostage by some woman in a leather cat suit.

I like sex. But I was equal parts turned on and disgusted with this read. It was the equivalent of walking onto a porn set, and watching everyone from the actors to the producers to the lighting and sound guys humping away like there was no tomorrow. I mean, it might have been nice to have the sex actually come to a screeching halt and maybe even see a bit of character development. This doesn’t need to be literary fiction, but even an entire high school football team shoved into a brothel would take a few deep breaths or maybe stop to eat on occasion.

Instead of resembling actual people, the characters felt like pawns on a chessboard shoved into position for the next sex scene. In short, the characters reminded me more of animals humping in the wild than actual human beings.

If that’s your shtick, then by all means have at it, but I had hoped for just a wee bit more.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

A Society Of Puritans

18343370-1Wanted by J. Kenner
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

J. Kenner (aka Julie) has plenty of writing talent, and most of it probably goes unnoticed within the erotica genre. Before you paste a “kick me” sign on my back, and I run up and down the halls trying to figure out why feet are constantly being tossed in my direction and my ass is suddenly and inexplicably sore, just hear me out for a minute. While erotica has reached mainstream level (thanks Fifty Shades), I can’t help but feel it’s whispered about at parties in the dark, men may, or may not, be reading it, but most of whom certainly aren’t going to admit it, and if you sat on an airplane next to someone who was reading a book with a half-naked man or woman on the cover, who may, or may not, have her legs wrapped around the waist of some hunk of burnin’ love, you’d probably cringe and turn away, even if you had the same damn book at home on your shelf. That’s just the way it is. We’re a society of Puritans, while Europeans laugh at us from the other side of the ocean.

And so it goes for J. Kenner. She isn’t praised for her writing talents, even though they are displayed for the masses. But she’s probably not complaining, because the six figure advances show up like clockwork, her erotica trilogies are pushed out on a conveyor belt, and she’s smiling every time she cashes one of those paychecks. But the character development is there. Angelina Hayden Raine (aka Angie or Lina) has scars as long as a country mile to go with her body built for sin and an ass that keeps on giving. She’s tainted as all get out, but there’s still purity and innocence to her, and it creates layers people. Layers. Evan Black has abs that could bounce quarters and nickels and dimes all at the same time. But he’s not just some rich billionaire who is damaged goods, although he does have his own issues. Again, we have depth, and it makes for a more enjoyable ride in the saddle.

Sure, there’s sex, but it never feels overt or dirty or forced. These are just two people exploring the depths of their relationship, who just happen to fuck more than normal couples do. It’s natural damn it!

What I really liked about WANTED, and which made me want it even more, was that the story was self-contained. It doesn’t drag out or implode or create additional complications, just for the sake of conflict and complication (thanks again Fifty Shades). It doesn’t extend out to additional books, and there aren’t unexpected blips just so we can watch a man drink himself into a coma. When the curtain drops, it drops. And I’ll stand up and applaud.

While this is a trilogy, the second book HEATED revolves around Sloane Watson, an undercover cop posing as a stripper at Destiny, who may, or may not, grow rather attached to what Tyler Sharp has going on in his pants. It sounds like a winner. I just hope I can get a front row seat, because I’ve got my stack of ones ready.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.


8135807-1Rock Me by Cherrie Lynn
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

There’s a fine line between erotica and contemporary romance, as this novel aptly proves. I’d say ROCK ME more than dips its toes in the erotica universe, but Amazon classifies this as contemporary romance (and we all know Amazon is always right), so of course, I want to strive to prove them wrong. But we’ll get to that a bit later. First, let’s talk about this particular piece of ass.

The story revolves around Candace Andrews. Come on down. She’s as pure as the driven snow, blonde, with a little junk-in-the-trunk, and disciplinarian parents who focus on the Andrews name above the needs of their own daughter. Her lustful fantasy, on the other hand, has a temper, owns a tattoo parlor (gasp!), is covered in art and piercings, and he may, or may not, have an apadravya. Brian Ross, come on down.

More than just formulaic, this was a paint-by-the-numbers, stay inside the lines, and gosh, I sure didn’t see that ending coming. And, yes, this novel proves that I have nearly reached the end of my erotica purge, as it’s all looking a bit too familiar, and whiplash, déjà vu, and virginally pure blonde stalkers in red high heels await me at every corner wearing trench coats and not a whole lot else. It’s a rough life, but there’s only so much of this I can take before I burn out my retinas.

So you’d think I hated it right? And you’d be…wrong. Despite the formula, I really dug Candace, and couldn’t seem to get enough of her, even if she did frustrate, aggravate, and leave me begging for more. But that’s love, right?

Well, in erotica novels there’s always fucking, and to give you some idea, fuck and its various derivations are used no less than 98 times over the course of this novel. There’s also plenty of oral, a short-lived condom less encounter, and plenty of vanilla sex (by erotica standards). But we have to keep in mind the characters, and this felt dirty (like I needed a shower afterwards), and Amazon reviewers have used sexy, steamy, and hot to describe this read. Now, I don’t know about you, but that sounds like erotica to me. So suck it Amazon.

Tumultuous Relationship

18803450Restless Spirit by Sommer Marsden
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

Tuesday Cane wasn’t my favorite day of the week, even though I ended up liking her all the same. Our relationship proved a bit tumultuous at times, as she bounced between men with a slap happy insistence that caused my head to jerk about as frequently as a male teenager with ADD. She dialed 3825 (to copulate) so often that she must have had it preprogrammed into her phone at the top of her speed dial. And there was so much fucking and yanging the wang I wouldn’t have been surprised if my pages weren’t somehow lubricated.

RESTLESS SPIRIT could have been the name of a horse, or it could have been a metaphor for the way I felt as I devoured this book, the pages filling my fantasies six ways from Sunday, the days of the week flying by in epic and unexpected passion. The bare sex scenes heightened my senses to the point that I felt a part of the action, peering out of the bedroom closet with one eye focused on the prize, and There’s Something About Mary doesn’t have anything on the sticky hair scene contained in this novel.

Shepard Moore proved every bit as strong as Tuesday Cane, but I found Adrian and Reed Green a bit lacking in the strong and silent type department. Tuesday, however, proved plenty restless, and worked her way up and down the small town. If she didn’t hold a certain appeal that I can’t quite describe, her finger hovering over the eject button might have shown me the error of my ways, or caused a sad shake of my head. But if it’s all the same to you, I’ll relish the wanton abandon contained within these pages, even as the ending was projected on my flat screen well before we reached the finish line.

All in all a fine read if you’re into that will she or won’t she sort of thing, but not one I’ll probably revisit anytime soon.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

One Wicked Lady

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My Rating: 4/5 Stars

Don’t let the name Madison Monroe fool you. She’s one part Wicked Words bookstore owner, and nearly three parts badass. She’s into dominance, subservience, and just about anything in between. She has CONTROL issues and monogamy ones too, with a body built for sin, and an active imagination to boot. But if you can capture her attention, you may die butt naked with a smile on your face after emptying your spunk tank.

Putting theory into practice and with a file cabinet full of erotica tales, Madison’s one wicked lady, but neither of her male counterparts utter a single word of protest. In fact, once the action reached the bedroom, or the backroom, there were more than a few incoherent utterances, most of which would have been accentuated with exclamation points. And I couldn’t help doing the wave every time the sexual acrobatics stepped onto the printed page.

Sure, this novel was filthy and raunchy and messy and grubby, and I may have needed to spray myself down with a garden hose after finishing this tale, but that was why it had such a strong appeal. If you like it when the female cracks the whip and dominates you in ways you never thought possible, you might find yourself enjoying a wet dream or two at the end of this tale. Once the sex train ended, I wanted to hop right back on, and enjoy this fantasy ride all over again.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

What Do You Mean You Used To Write Children’s Stories

Guest post provided by Elene Sallinger.

When people find out that I started my writing career in children’s literature, the reactions are varied but always funny. It’s a classic “what the f@#$” moment. Somehow, this transition just doesn’t seem to compute for most people. Granted, children’s lit and erotica are much further apart on the spectrum than say mysteries and romance, but they are both still part of the fiction genre. And, the theme of my erotica – people overcoming their baggage – is only marginally different from the theme of my children’s stories – overcoming fear and doubt.

I began writing children’s stories after my then four-year-old daughter repeatedly asked for the same bedtime story which I’d improvised one night. She didn’t want more or less the same story, she wanted the details to match. With my memory being as full of holes as Swiss cheese, I began to write them down and illustrate them for her.

When he discovered this, her father encouraged me to take some classes. After much stalling, I finally did and a writer was born. Because my daughter was so young, children’s lit was natural for me. I found myself writing the stories I wished I’d had as a child. Stories that promoted facing fear, self-acceptance and overcoming doubt. All concepts I’ve struggled with throughout my life.

As my daughter grew and Dora gave way to Xbox and Chicka Chicka Boom Boom was put away in favor of Artemis Fowl, I found I had no taste for writing for the young adult market. There were too many prolific authors already doing it better than I could.

Around this same time, I stumbled across my first tale of erotic fiction, Seducing Jane Porter by Dominique Adair. One taste and I was hooked. I devoured everything I could find. Sadly, I also found myself disappointed again and again by stories that lurched from one sex scene to another with no plot, no character development and laughable, unrealistic sex scenes.

I’d already picked clean the catalogs of my favorite authors and was frustrated with a lack of quality content. I wanted more and I didn’t want to sacrifice my reading standards. One night, after deleting a particularly bad story off my iPad, I decided to try and write a story that I would want to read. The rest, as they say, is history.

After getting some practice in with a few short stories, I submitted Awakening to Xcite Books’ contest for new writers at the 2011 Festival of Romance and won! I haven’t looked back since.

I love the erotic genre and nothing pleases me more than a good story where people explore their sexuality while overcoming the baggage we all carry at some level.

While, I may write other children’s stories – I’ve got one or two percolating – I’m officially hooked on erotica and plan to continue writing erotic romance for as long as I’ve got a story to tell.

17683820Hailing from Washington, DC, Elene Sallinger first caught the writing bug in 2004 after writing and illustrating several stories for her then four-year-old daughter. Her writing career has encompassed two award-winning children’s stories, a stint as a consumer-education advocate, as well as writing her debut novel, Awakening—a novel of erotic fiction that won the New Writing Competition at the Festival of Romance 2011. Visit Elene online here.

Click here to read my Awakening review.

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Blackout Periods

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My Rating: 4/5 Stars

Since this is the closest I’ll ever come to making love with a porn star, I wanted to take full advantage of the situation, having been introduced to Sasha Grey through the marketing and promotional campaign of The Girlfriend Experience—although full disclosure I never did see the movie. Thank you Steven Soderbergh. And if I can still remember her name years later…well, that probably gives you some indication of why I read so many novels a year. So continuing on in my current erotica experiment, which has grown into something resembling an expedition, and is probably on the brink of turning into a full-blown epidemic, I bring you THE JULIETTE SOCIETY for your whispering pleasure.

This novel blew my mind. Literally. With periods so intense I thought I might blackout, it’s safe to say Ms. Grey writes as well as she fucks. The lucky bastard who marries her might pass out on a nightly basis from sheer ecstasy and pure bliss, find himself in a sex-induced coma, and hooked up to an oxygen tank and sucking pineapple juice through a straw. I’d like to go into explicit detail on the sex scenes, as I convey my state of erotic involvement, but I feel like this might somehow cheapen the whole affair. And this novel wasn’t cheap for me. It was intense and weird and thoroughly entertaining.

The Fuck Factory really doesn’t need much more of an introduction. And the women. Holy. Hell. I need some Crisco. Stat. Anna—round ass, big tits, voluptuous, pale, and curvy in all the right places—was so completely in tune with her sexuality and uninhibited, I could practically feel the pages vibrating whenever she stepped between the white space. And Catherine in many ways the zin to Anna’s zang was considerably more of a minx than she first appeared. And I sucked it all up like a Slurpee.

It was raw and powerful and emotional and disjointed and invigorating and fulfilling and wonderful and sensual. As for me, I was stimulated and lubricated and aroused and satiated and turned on faster than a drilldo. And I devoured all of it greedily and lustfully, finishing it in two days’ time.

I think it’s safe to say Sasha Grey can write (even her less than enthusiastic reviewers have acknowledged as much). She writes with passion and an animalistic intensity, baring her soul with a powerful mindfuck that opened my eyes wider than a chasm. I found myself pondering questions I had never pondered before. Like where did her writing come from? And did she work on her soliloquies and monologues and diction and dialogue as she was getting pounded in the ass?

If Ms. Grey is anything like her debut novel, she’s not the most conventional individual. And that’s why this story spoke to me. With plenty of flashbacks and storytelling within the story, spending a lot of time in Catherine’s head, and more than a few cinematic references, this novel was executed with haphazard precision.

Her name sold me on the first book, but I’ll be coming back for more like some lust-induced bunny, especially if she takes another stab at the erotica genre. A professional fucker who writes about fucking. What more could you possibly ask for?

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Six-Pack Abs

17616105Surrender Your Love by
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

After the cover of SURRENDER YOUR LOVE flowed through my feed a few times…well, let’s just say I was pleasantly intrigued with more than a hint of enticement. The dark cover and toned legs paired with the thigh high red leather boots more than held my attention. Those boots popped out of my screen like daisies in the snow, and I was left sticking my tongue out as I tried to catch the snowflakes. And I have once again been sidetracked by an erotica novel.

I have every intention of tearing through the mystery and thriller and literary universe only to veer off to the side of the road and stare up at the sky when one of these beauties comes along. That’s probably the best way to describe erotica: A pleasant distraction from the more serious, deeper reads that cover my Kindle and bookshelves. And for you frequent readers, you’re already well aware that I’ve been a bit more distracted as of late. But I can’t seem to help myself. Every time I meander my way back out, I’m shoved back in…and we’re off.

The dialogue proved more than a bit cheesy to me, especially when compared to other erotica novels. It wasn’t porn quality dialogue, but it served to pull me out of the story at times more than it managed to enhance character and character development. I even managed to chuckle inwardly a couple times, and not in a good way. But frankly I’m more interested in the characters, relationship development, and of course, the sex.

Part of my fascination stems from the fact that I couldn’t write a realistic sex scene to save my life. Women, who are much better at sex than men will ever be, write some mojo-inducing scenes that could make a stripper blush. And this novel certainly had a few, with once again, the male anatomy never looking so good. It’s probably safe to say at this point that erotica novels like to round up when it comes to the size of the male member.

Brooke Stewart proved interesting and intriguing, and it was hard not to appreciate her luscious curves. She’s more tormented than Jett Mayfield, and we actually learn the reasons for her anguished nature, albeit down the road a piece. I won’t spoil it for you, dear reader, but suffice it to say, it was a nice twist. Sure, she might be a little fucked in the head, but I actually cared about her. She was a character I could get behind, as I try not to grab her behind.

Jett, on the other hand, was the more committed of the two right from the get go, which was a nice twist. But then he managed to have the usual problems that trouble all men: six-pack abs, toned muscles, and several million dollars stuffed in a safe in Switzerland. And I lost a bit of interest at the size of his growing member.

We also have the tried and true and possibly overused relationship formula for many an erotica novel that began with Fifty Shades and continues to this day. I realize it’s easier to go with the conventional than chart new territory in this playground, but just once I’d like to see someone break the mold. I’d like to see a couple captured by some axe-wielding maniac, locked in a basement, and they have to fuck their way to freedom. Or maybe the friend, in this case it’s Sylvie, who as per the usual course has looser morals than our main protagonist, could have feelings for Mr. Six-Pack, sleep with him, and then our main couple has to work through that particular bucket of firecracker wielding monkeys. Let’s spice it up a bit, or in the case of the latter, flame it up a bit.

Aside from the sense of déjà vu and practically predicting the ending, I’d have to say it was an otherwise enjoyable read if erotica is your thing.

Serapheliums and Sexual Auras

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My Rating: 2/5 Stars

“Girlfriend, I have no idea how to rate this novel.”

“What the hell? You’re supposed to be some kind of expert.”

“An expert in sex? Do you think any man in his right mind is skilled in the art of seduction? Many have tried–”

Holds up her hand. “I see your point. There’s really no need to embarrass yourself further, even if you do write these reviews for what must be your own entertainment.”

“But people actually read them. I get likes and comments–”

“And you can wish and hope and dream, but that doesn’t mean you’re actually going to reach your goals.” Pauses to look at her hands. “So let’s get to the skinny before I need to have my nails done.”

“Well, there was sex.”

“Porn has sex. Was it the good kind? Filled with emotional buildup and payoff and romantic nomenclatures and heat and seduction and equally strong men and women?”

“Ummm, maybe I need to consult a thesaurus.”

“For the love of rainbows and unicorns, you’re killing me.” Slaps her forehead. “You know, this isn’t your first erotica novel, right?”

“True, but this was my first erotica novel set in space.”

“Is that any different?”

“Well…probably not. But there was a Seraphelium.”

“What the hell is that?”

“She controls the male libido and endorphins with just her touch. She can also amplify and harness the energy around her. And she has a sexual aura that would bring Rambo to his knees.”

“And all the sci-fi geeks utter a collective sigh right before downloading this novel onto their iPads, Kindles, Kobos and Nooks.” Another pause while she scratches her head. “But was there an actual story?”

“I think so.”

“What do you mean, think?”

“Well, it was hard to tell because I had trouble pulling myself out of the sex scenes. And I had trouble getting past the undercover hooker with breasts the size of hot air balloons. I also felt a rather pounding need to procure a laser pointer.”

“You know at the rate you’re going you won’t even be a good reviewer let alone a professional one. Goodreads will probably freeze your account right before they decide to delete it. And as for your blog, have you actually managed to procure any followers?”


“Do you have anything else to add? Or are you going to continue along in a semi-retarded state?”

“A TOUCH OF LILLY seemed to switch POV at times in the middle of a scene. It was a tad distracting–”

“Like this review?”

“Hey, I put time and effort into this work of art.”

“So do the manufacturers of washing machines, and you don’t see any of them receiving gold stars. You need to focus, my idiot friend.”

Drifts off to focus on bountiful breasts, clinging cleavage, feminine charms, and elevated libidos, before the hard slap of reality smacks me with a manicured fingernail.

“You’re not that attractive when you drool.”

“I didn’t think I was particularly attractive anyway. But I like to believe I hold a certain charm and appeal. You know, like a washing machine.”

“You really are an idiot.”

“Why, thank you.”

Her hand moves in a circular motion. “The novel…”

“Dallas and Lilly proved to be equally strong characters, while Theagan was a somewhat loveable alien with a bit too much testosterone. The plot was filled with a bit too many coincidences, and therefore, strained my believability factor a tad too much. But there was talent at work here, even confined to such a small space (less than 200 pages). And you already know how I feel about the sex scenes.”

“You’re such a typical man. When one head is full–”

“Hey, there’s no need to get graphic. Children may actually read this.”

“An erotica review?”

“Sure, why not? I like to believe this is actually somewhat entertaining, as this novel certainly was. But at least one of the sexual encounters seemed to be based on pure male fantasy, although since I’m a typical male, as you so aptly pointed out, I’ll try not to complain too hard.”

“I think you already did.”

“Well, the sexual encounter seemed a bit too farfetched, even if the novel was set in space, and Lilly was a Seraphelium.”

“And there you have it folks.” She executes a golf clap and lifts her right eyebrow.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.