1 reader gives it 1 star, 2 give it two stars, 2 more give it three while four and five star ratings each have three reader ratings. How on earth can that happen? How can we have such total disagreement so evenly spread? This is a Marmite book – people love it or they hate it. Which would you be? There’s only one way to find out and that is to read the book — which, if you’re an Amazon Prime subscriber with access to the Kindle Owners’ Lending Library (KOLL), needn’t cost you a thing. So what kind of book is it? Lovers in Their Fashion is an erotic romance set in the present day. Here’s the blurb:
A Decade of Undiminished Desire
When Alice Springer and John Pagan meet again after ten years it is clear their love is as strong as ever – but can it survive the dreadful secret that Alice has been hiding all this time? Alice ended her relationship with the love of her life because she had done something she believed he could never forgive. When they meet again after ten years, she knows she wants him back. But before she can confess her secret, he learns it in the worst possible way from another source – and it seems that this time their chance of happiness together really is over.
And here’s a short extract to help you decide whether this book is for you:
John woke at three the next morning, his body still functioning on London time. Cathy was fast asleep beside him, her black hair spread out on the pillow, her limbs flung in abandon across the rumpled sheets. How long? he wondered. How many nights was he doomed to spend like this, his hungry male body satisfied but his heart filled only with longing for what could not be?
They had gone from bathroom to bedroom, sitting in their white robes on the broad bed, drinking champagne and feeding each other with plump, succulent morsels of lobster interspersed with increasingly passionate kisses. Then they had stripped off their robes and explored each other’s bodies – frankly and openly, exulting in their mutual desire. It had been a time out of time, a time of giving and sharing. The room seemed still to echo with Cathy’s cries of joy as he had pleasured her with his tongue. Then, when he had raised himself above her, he had smothered her face and throat with kisses as she reached down, holding him, guiding him into herself.
Afterwards they had lain in each other’s arms and talked. She had told him about the end of her relationship, her sense of loss and the fellow-feeling that had driven her to invite him to change hotels. ‘I’m not usually as forward as this,’ she had whispered. ‘You may not believe that, but it’s true. I saw something in you that spoke to my own pain, and I wanted you.’
And John had told her what it was that she had recognized. Possibly for the first time with any woman, he had talked about Alice and what she had meant to him. He had told Cathy how certain he had been that he and Alice would marry. And, sipping the last of the champagne, he had told her of that dreadful day when Alice had explained that it could never be. When she had told him that, young though she was, there was something in her past of which she was deeply ashamed. Something she knew would return to haunt her. Something that would prevent his ever respecting her, and doom their marriage to failure.
Cathy had rested on her elbow, looking into his eyes, sharing his pain. ‘And she wouldn’t tell you what it was?’
John had shaken his head. ‘I tried. Heaven knows I tried. But she was immovable.’