A Slave of My Own Desire
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Clare has always tried to be a good girl—mostly to please her parents and her sister, Gina. But good is boring. She doesn’t want to be the perfect daughter with perfect manners and perfect composure. And she definitely doesn’t want a safe, boring, nice guy who doesn’t know the first thing about pleasing her in bed. When a mysterious stranger approaches her during a Halloween party, she’s tempted, but she decides that he’s trouble, so she does the good-girl thing and brushes him off. Her family wins again! Then he shows up at her apartment, and all resistance flies out the door. What follows is a night of wild sex with a nameless man, but she still braces herself for the next morning, when she’ll awaken to find him gone.

He isn’t looking for love—no, just fodder to feed his sexual appetite. Love isn’t worth the pain it brings, and he’s certainly not going to fall in love with this hot little number who’s hungry to shed her inhibitions and become his sex slave—if only for one night. His plans are to make her do things she thinks she doesn’t want to do and love every minute of it, begging him for more. Then something happens on the way to sexual paradise and changes everything.

Sex, sex, and more sex. Whew, boy! A Slave of My Own Desire is nearly non-stop sex. I have to give Ms. Summers credit, though. She does include a pretty decent (and even emotional) plot, even if it is a bit on the cliché side—good girl wants bad boy, bad boy doesn’t want to fall in love, disapproving parents…that sort of thing.

Though I almost sprayed Diet Coke all over my computer screen, busting out with laughter, when the hero referred to the heroine’s breasts as “cones,” I still found A Slave of My Own Desire to be a stimulating...er...enjoyable read. And though the plot isn’t especially deep—or the writing especially strong—at least I didn’t want to toss it aside in boredom as I do with so many erotic novels these days. No, there’s something a little bit magical and a little bit light-hearted—with a whole lot of innocent naughtiness—about this one, making it worthy of the time you set aside for frivolous entertainment.

I know you’re curious. So go on—pick up a copy of A Slave of My Own Desire.

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