Oh, hey, happy Fourth of July. I always like to wish everyone, even international readers, a happy holiday whenever I’m aware it’s a holiday someplace, because after all, even if you’re not celebrating, there’s no reason not to have a nice day 🙂
Content note: not safe for work. Which is funny because I’m typing this on my lunch break at work.
We’re fast approaching halfway through the book; it’s now 11pm on the day of the big opening of the bakery, and the last of the partiers have now been shoo’d out the door. Abby seems to have gone to her apartment upstairs, so Shar locks up… and is snuck up on by Sam and Wolfie, scaring her out of her wits. Smooth.
On the way home they rescue a puppy from a dumpster! Aww, Sam cares about puppies.
Apparently Sam and Sharrat were not a thing once upon a time; they didn’t sleep together. Which, given his behavior since he’s awakened, I suspect is not for his lack of trying. Shar wrestles with her attraction to Sam, which I heavily suspect is supernatural in origin. She doesn’t want to be the kind of person who sleeps with him, so she resists. I guess that’s a good message? It’s certainly no Bitten.
Instead, she paints. I’d almost forgotten she’d stopped off and bought paint after drinking the tonic; it seems it’s still pretty when the immediate effects of the tonic are dulled.
We get very, very… poetic:
[Shar] picked up a paintbrush, brand-new, thick, with shiny bristles that gleamed in the light from overhead. She ran them over the palm of her hand, and the stroke and tickle there made her draw in a sharp breath and shiver. She dipped the brush into the rich paint and held it above the can, watching the paint run off in ropes, creamy and thick, and the beauty of it as it looped back into the can made her breathe in a deeper rhythm, like music starting in her head, an insistent beat that tripped across her nerves. She imagined something as silky as the paint sliding across her skin, someone’s hands sliding across her skin, the beat in her blood solid and strong. The paint was so there, in that moment, real, and she straightened and slashed the bright brush across the stone gray on the wall, and the amber leapt out at her, making her draw in her breath, and she said, “Yes”, and dipped the brush in and slashed again, and then again, splashing the light to obliterate the dark, gasping with the color as the heat rose, the contrast and the slide making her breathe harder as she stroked away the gray, painting faster, watching the room begin to glow, getting dizzier and dizzier as the beat began to coil tight within her, and when she finished the third wall, she stripped off her top and then her pants to paint in her underwear, panting and shivering.
So… I guess paint is what does it for Shar when vibrators can’t?
Also. THAT IS A REALLY LONG SENTENCE. I’m exhausted from typing it.
She does the fourth wall in red and then puts yellow on top and jesus christ this is the weirdest sex scene I have ever read in my entire life.
And when it was done, when the color was huge, glowering at her, overpowering, she picked up the yellow brush again and slashed the amber paint into the red, once, yes, twice, yes, again and again until she leaned on the table, let her head fall back, breathed in deep, felt all that tension twisting deep insider her, thought, Yes!, and tried to let go, and then something inside her said No, it’s dangerous, go back,and she felt it all slipping away.
So I guess this is why she’s never had an orgasm: she gets up to the bring, then is afraid and falls back. I guess that makes sense.
Anyway, long story short she conquers her fear and orgasms. Because of paint.
Then she kisses Sam and orgasms again. Lucky.
Then Sam calls her “Sharrat” and she shoves him away and goes to take a shower and the water gets her off AGAIN.
So I guess she’s awakened to her powers now?
This sounds uncomfortable. Is it not normal to get rather sensitive and not want to be touched after a particularly good orgasm? Because I was under the impression that was normal, and here even her flannel nightgown feels like sex.
She decides she should have sex with Sam anyway, but he left.
She turned her face into her pillow and fell asleep, exhausted and confused and unsatisfied.
Alright, I think I see what this book is saying. This book is taking the point of view that masturbation is unsatisfying and that only a Real True Penis can make a woman satisfied.
fuck this book.
And we’re back to Abby. Abby the goddess of Lust who is now hungry for Christopher and needs his penis to fill the penis-shaped hole that resides within every woman.
This week I think I’m coming down on the side of not liking this book?
Anyway, Abby goes to find Kammani. Kammani disapproves of the coffeehouse. Kammani disapproves of Christopher. Kammani commands Abby to return on tuesday and uses supernatural power to make her verbally agree. Bowser disapproves of Kammani.
Back to Daisy. A pop culture reference I think I’m missing:
A bus went by with a movie poster on it, starring the two morons with the new baby, but even Camisole didn’t seem like that bad a name now. Kind of cute.
I don’t think Camisole is a real celeb baby name? I guess this is just a generic reference?
Daisy has 12 toothbrushes because the package says to replace them ever 3 months and she can buy them in bulk to save money. Somehow that little moment of characterization makes me smile.
Oh wait. Apparently sex cures OCD now. Or whatever Daisy’s supposed to be suffering from. I think it was control issues? But way back in chapter 1 she was talking about organizing her CD collection which is usually shorthand for “OCD nerd who never gets laid” in Hollywood. Anyway, she has no desire to clean the mess from having sex, because the sex was that good it cured her.
This is why I don’t read romance novels: the tiring cliches about sex making everything in life better. It doesn’t help that I’m not having a lot of it lately due to stress. Am I somehow defective or missing out on the best part of life or secretly unfulfilled because despite being in a loving relationship, on the brink of getting married, I’d rather sleep than fuck? Somehow I doubt it.
Noah notices that freaky wind blows whenever they kiss. Lol.
The wind wrecked her kitchen. Apparently it’s worse when she’s pent-up or something.
Oh, interesting: she learns she can use her clicky pen and wind combination to give a girl trying to hand out fliers some self-confidence so she can get people’s attention. Cool. She starts sending her unwanted sexual energy into other people so their day gets better.