The only reason this book did not receive an F is the fact that the sex scenes are hot. If that’s all you want, and nothing else, then maybe you will want to plunk down your $12 for this 181 page book. (My math indicates that’s roughly $1 for every 15+ pages – about twice the price of your average $5.99 book with double the pages). Other than that, this book is flimsier than the table of contents of most magazines. The writing is purple, the plot is nonexistent, and the characters are straight from Central Casting.

Most AAR reviews feature an introductory paragraph (see above) and maybe about three to four paragraphs of synopsis. Unfortunately, there just isn’t enough plot to justify that, so here goes: At some historical period in the past, wealthy Boston-area widow Fallon Gilchrist lives on her estate. In mourning for about a year, she is sinking into a depressive malaise. Her best friend wins Montague Bridgeman (“Bridge”) at a charity auction for “half a fortnight” and presents him to Fallon as a gift. Sexually repressed and shy, Fallon decides that instead of doing the obvious with him, she will paint him. He strips, she paints, he makes her come, they are off doing the obvious for the aforementioned “half a fortnight.” Somehow, the two of them fall in love with each other.

Fallon describes herself as middle-aged, and she is uncomfortable with the idea of having a younger man – Bridge is 24 – as a long-term partner. Later she is described as being 29, which seems to be a typo. It seems as if she is really supposed to be 39. She reveals that she has always had sexual fantasies, but never goes into any depth about them. Bridge, who is a veteran of some war (What war? Where? When?) has some inner darkness, but again, we never find out what it is. There is not a lot of exposition here. In fact, until there was a mention of a carriage and a cravat, it was not clear that this was not a contemporary story.

The sex scenes are titillating, although they are written in such overblown phrases as to be downright silly at times. Fallon and Bridge have sex in the rain, with whipped cream, in a carriage, on rose petals, and everywhere in between. Throughout each sex act, Fallon keeps asking herself why she feels such a strong pull to this man who will only be in her life for a week. It seems pretty clear that she feels the pull because he’s made her have, oh, about twenty orgasms in as many minutes, but hey, she chooses to look for something deeper.

Taboo would have made a good novella, but as a full-length “book” (calling a 181-page book full-length is dicey) it falls apart.