A confession by a would-be serious literary author who has been misunderstood by the public and the press as a new erotica sensation.

The narrator of Anna Rozen’s hilarious portrait of two very opposite women has some problems. Her new novel, intended to be sexy but no more, has been received by the press and public as pure erotica. The book attracts readers for the wrong reason, among them, the Bombshell. Before she knows it, the buxom blonde has moved in with her, begun to follow her everywhere, and proceeded to overshadow her life.

Bombshell’s most inconvenient trait for the normally reserved and unobtrusive narrator is an insatiable appetite for sex, especially any kind of experimental sex. Inviting herself along to parties, she upsets the balance: boyfriends gravitate away from their dates and husbands from their wives, all prospective partners in what Bombshell perceives as a great feast of attraction and desire. Failing to awaken her unlikely guru, Bombshell loses patience and starts forcing her less-emancipated “friend” to watch her have sex, all the while taunting and mocking her.

Try as she might, the narrator cannot get herself to join in. Matters go from bad to worse, and she kicks Bombshell out, only to realize that without her, she is nothing. It’s now clear she needs to spice up her life, with or without the help of others.

The novel is enhanced by black-and-white line drawings at chapter openings depicting entangled bodies in a variety of sexual positions.