Accidental Erotica…

There is a perfectly reasonable, albeit amusing explanation to the title of this blog.

When I was about 13/14 I started to love reading and although I never stopped my appetite decreased. I put my renewed desire to dive into different worlds down to needing something to fill the void the education system used to occupy.

Last Wednesday morning I finished the YA (Young Adult) novel Marina by Carlos Ruis Zafron. I am slightly older than the target audience but I love his writing style so although aimed at a younger demographic I enjoyed it thoroughly. At lunch I found myself wanting a new story to delve into, so I went to the book store to pick something.

Payday was close but hadn’t arrived, so I was on a budget. I found a book with an eye catching cover, that was on offer, and picked it up to read the blurb. Now I know you should never judge a book by its cover, but lets face it that phrase is often said but rarely practiced.

The blurb read:
A spectacular fraud in a London auction house
A barefoot lover running through the Paris Streets
A colossal theft from a billionaires yacht
A vicious murder under a bridge in Rome
They started it.
She’ll end it.

I have a quick read through a couple of the single line reviews, seeing it was apparently well written and a gripping thriller. At this point my hunger was hurrying me to make a decision, so I brought the book and went to grab some lunch. Taking a photo of Marina and Maestra I popped it on Instagram. My Instagram account is somewhere I share my daily life, so pictures of my dog, days out with friends and the fact I am reading a new book.

Now, I didn’t have time to start the book until before work the next day. I didn’t start until 4pm and had gotten in early so went for a tea. As I began to read I realised the novel wasn’t exactly what I thought it was going to be. I had not brought a typical thriller, I had brought an erotic thriller.

At this point can I make it clear I have no queries with anyone who reads erotic novels. Reading a book with sex scenes is seen as more questionable than watching a film/tv show with such a scene, and so erotic novels are seen as something to be secretive about. Perhaps its because reading the words forces you to create your own, slightly personal, version of the moment. I simply tend not to find the novels that come under the ‘erotica’ theme particularly intriguing. Often, the plot is weak and the characters lack dimension. Not all of them obviously, but enough that I don’t seek out that genre. It is definitely not my style to Instagram about it where I have my aunties, great aunties and family friends following me.

Writing this I realise its not particularly traumatic, but I embarrass easily. Maybe it’s the catholic school girl in me. Despite leaving school several years ago growing up in that environment does make you more prone to embarrassment over such situations.

I am going to give the book a chance though. Part of my renewed reading desire is to read more than the best seller that’s being made into a movie next year. Wish me luck, I think I may need it with this one.


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