Yes, three years after it’s release. Don’t judge me: I’ve been busy. OMFG. Toes curled, tongue taut, fingers trembling, and other more personal parts of me also fully engaged.
Sarah.
Goddess.
Idol.
Mentor.
I touch my head to your feet, bowed, curled into a ball of desire that my prose at least occasionally evoke a feeling like this in someone else.
Just… just listen to this, kittens:
“The kiss was perfectly lifeless, for a second or two. It was cool and dry and chaste, the sort of kiss one might give to a child… But they did not separate. They held the kiss, chaste as it was, until, by their very holding of it, it became unchaste…
…
She seemed to have lot a layer of skin, to be kissing not simply with her lips but with her nerves, her muscles, her blood. It was nearly too much…”
And the actual first orgasm scene… I can’t even type it for you without… OMG. Just go get the book.
Oh, there’s also plot and character development and period (1920s) details, and love and betrayal and angst and redemption and… oh, so much. So much.
And then there’s also the eroticism, almost casually, carelessly–do you know how much art, craft, SKILL is required to make it seem so casual, unstudied, “just there”–thrown in…
Oh.
Ok.
You know what to do–get and read the book if you haven’t.
I’m going to curl up with it… and relish it one more time. More slowly, with less urgency this time. Just like this… yes…
❤
mjanecolette
PS This isn’t a book review. This is a shout of ecstasy and adulation.
PS2 If you’re in yyc, it be PRIDE week, and I’m out and about doing various pride things, so look for me & come talk to me about Sarah Waters.
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❤
mjanecolette
