Is another terribad mommy porn novel. Apparently if I liked "Fifty Shades of Grey" this is right up my alley, according to the sticker on the front. No prizes for guessing what it's ripping off, hm?

(Speaking of right up my alley, my housemates forgot to buy bogroll again. This'll do in the interim.)

Still, it's suitably execrable for this series of writeups, however, since I've reviewed so much bad erotica by now it's all starting to blur together, and no doubt will be blurring together in the mind of you, the reader, I thought I'd do something a little... experimental... this time around. It's written by a Vina Jackson who is actually two people, one a woman who works in the City and the other being, allegedly, some sort of celebrity writer who'd rather remain anonymous. And after this, I'd rather remain anonymous as well.

Executive Summary

Violins and BDSM.

A bit more detail, if you wouldn't mind?

Well... I think I'm going to review this effort in the form of a song. The tune is, of course, "Waltzing Matilda."

Eighty Days Yellow, The Song

At a Smiths in Stratford worn out from Court hearings
Looking for something for to take the piss
A novel jumped out at me from a bargain hoarding, saying,
"Love Fifty Shades? Well you'll lust after this!"

(Refrain) Eighty Days Yellow, Eighty Days Yellow,
Eighty Days Yellow by Vina Jackson!
It's full of sex and bondage and craply written nonsense,
It's Eighty Days Yellow by Vina Jackson!

Our heroine's a woman (which is of course tautology)
She plays the violin and she likes her sex
She has a useless boyfriend who comes too soon (apologies)
But puts up with him because he pays the cheques.

Then on the Tube she meets a wealthy chap named Dominik
He's hyper rich and you know the rest
Got a mutton mallet that's suitably long and thick
And wants to see her play undressed!

Dominik's a professor but we don't know of what he is
Goes off on tangents about his works
Now the author brags about how well read she is
Jesus Christ Almighty, what a boring burk!

He's obsessed with Summer, our violinist nymphomane
He thinks about her while he puts it about
He buys her an instrument because she broke her other one
And expects his payment in the form of her clout!

So off she goes to see him, and plays Vivaldi in the nude
Needless to say, this leads to some sex
He likes how she's "responsive," and allow me to be crude
She's creaming herself just at him removing her kex!

And what about the other women who chuck themselves at Dominik?
Well, that's all they're therefore in this little book
They only exist for his practice at dipping his wick
He just fucks them, then off they fuck!

Now at this stage the plot goes for a Burton
It's just endless scenes of BDSM
And "the piston like in and out of their warring genitals"
And similar "sexy" bits without end.

The rest of the novel just rips off Histoire d'O
Speaking of ripping off, so is Summer's dress
By this time I was just going with the flow
Plot and thread lost in a godawful mess

By the end she's found happiness in slavery
With imagery lifted from the books of Gor
Brands and markings, chains and ironmongery
And being painted up as Babylon's Whore.

Needless to say, this novel is a crock of shite
Purple prose and stupid names
Better stuff with very little effort could I write
And I will stand by that there claim!!!!

(Thank Odin that's over with.)