My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Memoirs of a Gigolo Volume Two.
By Livia Ellis
Considering the title, I knew what to expect: a man’s diary of his sexual escapades. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find a touch of class in Oliver, and the style and voice in this novel definitely French. Actually, Beatrix from Honoré de Balzac sprung to mind, 1830 Latin French Quarters in Paris, very Montmartre, of the epoch of Toulouse Lautrec. In fact, I got so lost in the debauchery of French mores from that era that I lost track of our own century and jumped when Oliver mentioned a flat screen TV in his room.
Of course, many erotic moments also spell comedic spoofs: “She has those freakishly strong thighs. If she had to, I imagine she could strangle someone between them. Who needs pepper spray when you have the Thighs of Death?” This passage made me laugh out loud.
All of Livia Ellis’ erotic moments are described with simplicity yet poetic flair. I have known a few Oliver’s in my time, all of them genuinely represented here in this perfect portrayal. All characters, authentic and real, breathe and stand as individuals, without any author intrusion whatsoever. Furthermore, what I enjoy about Livia Ellis is that she is not ashamed of proclaiming her love of Star Trek—ditto.
One of the more unusual reads I’ve had the pleasure of encountering in a long time. I highly recommend the experience to anyone who wishes a glimpse, behind the scenes, at a modern-day “Moulin Rouge”.