This is your spoiler alert... If you have not finished the first of the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy, stop here now. I am going to give away a bit of this books' ending.
IT WAS HORRIBLE! That's as much as I'll give away. Here's my take on it. The publisher probably got this huge book, and said, we need to break it up into three parts so that we can make more money off this. Sadly, the publishing house did a sucky job of breaking the book up, and the ending of the first book really seems like it should be the beginning of the second book. I like for each book or movie to be a stand alone piece of work. This is not. This leaves you hanging like you lost the rest of the pages in the book.
Second, I abhor usage of intricate verbiage just for the sake of sounding prolifically intelligent. (See what I did there?) Sounded more stupid than if I just said, something about how the books' writing was unnecessarily stuffed with writing that would be better suited for a non erotic book. It was like trying to class up a porn movie with less cheesy music. And don't judge. You know what I am talking about, and if you don't want to fess up, that cheesy music will haunt you during your next MUZAK moment in a Walmart bathroom. (It happened to me once. I swear, I was in Florida, and my car had a tire blow out, and by some weird coincidence, I was sitting in a Walmart bathroom and hearing this music that sounded sooooo familiar. It dawned on me, and I was still shaken and grateful for being alive after the frightening ordeal I had experienced a short time before, and then found it haunting to have creepy/cheesy porn MUSAK playing while I tried to poo. True Story.)
And finally, the word, "hitched." First, it is over used, and if you ask me, it was only put in the book so that people like me would try to make a drinking game out of it. Like, every time it is used, take a swig... The author kept referring to some one's breath hitching. I came up with at least 6 synonyms, and all could have been rotated on an as need basis every 100 pages. The use every twenty pages caused me angst and frustration that the editor didn't try to stop her. Well, this would be the same editor that screwed up the whole book separation, so at this point, I suppose my expectations should drop a few notches.
So, I thought the end of the first book was a good point to stop and do this little review. I hope I haven't spoiled it for you. (Or ruined your next visit to the bathrooms in Walmart.)
PS I thought up a few fun ideas that could go horribly wrong to try out in the bedroom with my hubby. Luckily, after thinking through all of them, I will stick to "vanilla."
Handcuffs- that's obvious.. I lose my own car keys and the kids usually have to find those for me. Not sure how to ask the kids to search for lost handcuff keys without having to 'splain that to the therapist.
Swing- We have that, and it was retired post baby number one. (There is a weight limit to those suckers.) Apparently, I have exceeded the maximum weight. I think the I bolt in the master bathroom doorway isn't supposed to cause splitting in the wood. Just a casual observation.
Whips and Chains and Floggers- First of all, not sure about the difference between all of them, but chains seem unnecessary. Since I can't open the pickle jar most days, I think chains are overkill. Whips seem painful, and from the description in the book on floggers, I think it has many little whips at the end that might get knotted together, and that would cause me to obsessively compulse to distraction over that being unknotted and straight. Mood killer- like a kid who walks in rubbing a sleepy eye asking what "that noise" was. (More therapy.)
Gag- I have to much to say, and this would certainly be disarming for Geoff since he needs me to tell him every step of what I want done, how I want it done, when I want it done, etc. Because if I don't, it won't be done the way I want it done. And the way I want it done, is usually how it gets done. This would be difficult if used on him as I never needed an object to quiet him. Therefore, it would be a waste of money, and that would also kill the mood. (for mood killer, See above newly awoken child in search of the "noise" that work her. Bless her heart. I feel bad about that time.)
Thus far, it appears that I am not as much fun in the bedroom as I thought I would be at this stage of my life. This saddens me. But only because I pride myself in my originality in life. And I only will eat vanilla ice cream as a means to eat other things, i.e. fudge, nuts, caramel, etc. So, if I equate this to my intimate life with my husband, I should accept my vanilla-ness, and throw some nuts on top. Wait, that's not right.. or is it? (I'm totally staying away from the fudge. I got jokes.)