My Raptor, Until November by Cara B Connor
The ludicrous cover is the sexiest thing about this dud of an erotica.
The ludicrous cover is the sexiest thing about this dud of an erotica.
I don’t smoke, but I feel like I need to light up at least three cigarettes after reading this one.
It is one thing to have porn with plot, but come on, make the plot interesting.
Wait, is this supposed to be sexy?
Sex is sex; let’s not insult ourselves by passing it off as love.
Our heroine moves from her dead lover to her dead lover’s son. How wholesome.
The author has the right idea: let’s spank the idiocy out of the romance heroine.
Oh, horny and engorged religious men, tormented with lust for an unsuitable woman! Here, take my money.
Oh yes, that’s it… that’s it… wait, that’s it?!!
Will you get down on your knees before the minister on the cover?