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Taylor appears from… where?
From… there, perhaps?
(Honestly, you can’t put ‘where’ in italics and not expect my mind to jump there.)
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He’s going to kiss me there, I know it, and part of me is glorying in the anticipation.
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My heated blood pools low in my belly, between my legs, right down there.
Maybe Bella should put away ‘Tess D’Urbervilles’ for the time being and read this book instead:
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Come, let’s have a bath…” he leans down and kisses me gently, and my heart leaps and desire pools… way down low… way down there…
Way down where?
Way down where the music plays?
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His finger slips through the fine lace and slowly circles around me… there…
Oh, for chrissakes!
If you insist on writing erotica, you better do it right. In other words, don’t shy away from human anatomy.
My inner critic invites you to tag along on a journey through the deepest, darkest realms of bad fiction, as epitomized in the fanfictional beginnings of the now bestselling series 'Fifty Shades of Grey'. In other words, I am doing a through and critical reading of 'Master of the Universe' by Snowqueens Icedragon. Be warned: Kinky fuckery lies ahead (admittedly most of it is being censored, what with genitalia being vaguely alluded to as 'way down there', or simply just 'there'.) Nevertheless, twelve-year-olds, consider yourselves warned.
