This isn’t full-fledged bookporn; it’s something more coy, more demure. Maybe it’s like the difference between the feathered and sequined blond tarts grinding up against the dancing pole on stage, dollar bills spilling out of their cleavages … and the pretty brunette in t-shirt and jeans working behind the bar, who, when she turns around to pour your shot, has the hint of a thong peeking up over the top of her jeans –
– something like that, or perhaps, something not at all like that. after all, I am no good with analogies, and I wouldn’t want to call the Caius library a harlot. at any rate, I am back from the Baltic after an extended holiday, and hopefully, back to business.
August 9th, 2008 at 9:03 pm
It’s the steamy romance novel where the repressed but longing female vacationer finds sex and nonverbal connection with the local carpenter / inventor / rescuer of children. Like an X-rated Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman.
August 9th, 2008 at 9:36 pm
Oi! Where’s my Sydney bookporn already?