Compelled to write a "half way" review. So far, the narrator/heroine has spent the last 150 pages whinging abot herself and her dead marriage. Immature, narcissistic, and rotten navel-gazing are making it REALLY hars for me to believe this is erotica. So far this is the least erotic book I've ever read. Adultery is not sexy.

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I dropped the book last night. Actually, in truth, I read the last page, and then threw it across the room. (Sorry Waltham Public Library. The cover has a few new creases due to my disgust.)

The heroine is the most narcissictic, selfish and STUPID woman I have ever met. Every act went against everything I enjoy in erotica. I like strong women, protected sex (or at the very least that nominal dialog of STIs/pregnancy), and monogamy. I'm all for "monogamish" so long as the couple is open about it. (See Portia da Costa's The Tutor for this done well.) THIS book on the other hand, UGH!

The men were cardboard cutouts and only served for her to project her fantasy's on, except she's too weak to actually OWN any of her fantasies and act on them in a safe way.

Also, WTF is up with that random "mystery" ending. UNNECESSARY!! It was like one of those TV shows that ends their series with the "it was all a dream" ending. What a cop out!!

... and now I have to read 50 Shades of Gray for bookclub. I HATE bad erotica. Gonna go stock up on some Anne Calhoun and Portia da Costa for a thorough pallet cleansing.