Two words: skid marks.

This book purports to be an erotic novel. I thought it might be funny to read an erotic novel owned by my great aunt, especially since the cover blurb gave it a really big talking up. What I found (and got incredibly bored by) was a whiney brat of a woman who can't decide what she wants, really unsexy paramours (Mr skid marks, this goes out to you in particular) and just a generally irritating plot. I gave up on it for about 18 months and found it again whilst unpacking the other day. I saw Jennifer Byrne review this book a few months ago (and she was raving about it) and thought this was a strange thing indeed, she usually has good taste in books!

Perhaps I approached it from the wrong perspective when I started, or perhaps the first 2 thirds of the book really are just awful. I suspect this probably was quite scandalous when first released. It certainly isn't well written, but maybe frank portrayal of female fantasies and sexuality in general really was a novelty back then. In the post Sex and The City world I now live in, this seems absurd, and quite sad. I would have given this book one star, but I really did start to like Isadora towards the end. I think she started to grow up, like maybe she finally got that she didn't have to define herself as someone's lover, she could actually just be her own person. Faith in Jennifer has been partially restored. Just don't call this an erotic novel, please. Eww.