Brava, $15.00, ISBN 1-57566-805-X
Historical Erotica, 2002
Again and Again is just too easy, I’ll not make bad puns out of that title, I promise. Maybe Ms Johnson is having fun at critics targeting her for her non-stop sexual marathons – hey, to some readers, non-stop sexual marathons are inexplicably a heinous sin – with this book title and even better, maybe she has deliberately written a book with all sex and no plot just to crown her middle finger at the critics with a coat of gold.
Maybe I’m giving the author way too much credit.
This one starts off at an inn where ex-lovers Caroline Morrow and Simon Blair meet again. She’s fallen on hard times, haven’t had any since they went separate ways, and is now a governess. He’s… well, he’s still the same old slut. The clothes fly. “Fuck me!” she screeches and he obeys. “Fuck me!” he barks and she obeys. And so they go, with stamina I can only envy. They broke up because she didn’t trust his claims of fidelity and he didn’t… well, I’m sure he has his reasons, even though I don’t seem to catch them, lost that I am in the heaving, panting, shuddering, thrusting, gushing, throbbing, and other strenuous actions I am inundated with by those two. If the world is a bed, we’ll be having earthquakes from the North to the South Pole.
There may be a plot. After all, Caroline’s a victim. A nasty man is after her, she is bankrupt but she doesn’t need charity, she’s in trouble but she doesn’t need his help so she will never tell him her troubles, she will run away instead of asking for help, et cetera. So when those two pause in their mutual pursuit of the hernia of all hernias, it’s up to Simon to rescue Caroline from all sorts of troubles and dangers. Never mind whatever issues they had the last time around, this time around Ms Johnson has Simon waving his prodigious, ever-tumescent and forever rigid magic rod and all is well, everything is fine, let’s get back to bopping for apples.
I’ve heard people say that sex is the panacea of all evils, but Again and Again is borderline ridiculous. Susan Johnson has done it again: she has clocked in another unmemorable time-waster in her backlist. If you want to feel vicariously what it’s like to have a one-night stand with some guy you don’t even want to know unless it’s under the influence of too much alcohol, hey, this book’s waiting for your morning hangover. Have fun.
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