REVIEW: Lust in the Library by Amelia FayerFriday, May 4, 2012 1:00
This is a short that is probably expected to be sweet, sexy fun. Unfortunately, it misses the mark by some distance, at least for me. It’s about two librarians who work in what seems like a vast academic library and get it on in the stacks with their chosen partners. The short book is made even shorter by splitting it into two parts, so each librarian gets her own story.
Sara gets William, an English professor teaching at the university. He comes in and asks for books that don’t seem to have much in common, except that they came from the same stacks. When eventually she goes to the sixth floor to find him, they get hot and heavy. For anyone who has read many erotic romances, the development of the sex is fairly straightforward. Kiss, touch, part nakedness, full nakedness, oral, sex. The sex, despite happening in a library, is fairly vanilla.
The second story is Veronica, who gets Andrew. She starts by giving him head when she thinks he’s going to masturbate onto an old folio, and so spoil the book. However, he has no intention of spoiling the book, he has a napkin ready. She’s wanted him for some time, and he’s wanted her, but a misunderstanding has kept them apart.
Can I tell you more about the plot? No, because that’s just about it. Sex in the library.
The background seems to be fairly thinly researched. An academic library with six floors or more? Do they have many of those in the USA? But for a senior, fully qualified librarian in an academic library, Sara spends a lot of time doing what the library assistants would usually do. I did work as a library assistant once, and we did most of the shelving, checking, issuing and so on. And that wasn’t even an academic library.
There are some conversations between Sarah and Veronica where I lost track of who’s talking, because the women seem so similar. At one point in the first story, before the first encounter, I forgot whether Sarah or Veronica is supposed to be the heroine of this story. And most of the conversation is along “as you know, Bob” lines, bringing the reader quickly up to speed with the backstory.
There are some dizzying point-of-view switches where we are in one character’s head, then we become aware of what the other character is thinking, then straight back to the first character. I think most of them are technical problems, where the editor has failed to pick it up.
As a Brit, I find the assumptions made of English people not only old fashioned but odd. Apparently William finds American girls more outgoing than English ones. So he hasn’t met any Essex girls or Scousewives, or even WAGs, although it’s doubtful they’d be interested in him. And he wears a tweed jacket. Really? I did stop and boggle at that one. The only person I know who wears or even owns a tweed jacket is a septuagenarian. I’m not sure what he was a professor of, although I believe we were told at one point. It didn’t seem to matter.
I find Veronica and Andrew even more thinly characterized, and that’s my main problem with this book. It is, basically, stroke fiction for women. The characters aren’t interesting or believable and most of the prose is dedicated to the hot sex in the library. Fulfilling a fantasy. But because there is no development of character and precious little characterisation, other than what we are told rather than shown, so I don’t really care if they get their rocks off or not.
Not the engaging, fun read I’d hoped for, and the sex is pretty vanilla, described in a vanilla way, for the most part.
Some like it hot, and some like it in the reference section
Sara is having a love affair with books. But, since books can’t make love to you, it means she’s in the middle of a very long dry spell. Until a sexy Brit shows up. Suddenly she’s learning just how stimulating a library can be—up against a bookcase, behind the card catalog, on the circulation desk . . .
Meanwhile, Veronica is incredibly frustrated. While Sara and her new man are using the library as their personal adult playground, she’s stuck with only her thesis and her sexual fantasies. But Andrew, her crush, isn’t above using his . . . assets to get Veronica right where he wants her: alone, in a darkened corner of the stacks.
Who knew reading could be this pleasurable?
No excerpt available.