Some of you may know M.J. Edwards from her coronavirus erotica that went viral. Enough people heard about it that even non-book YouTubers used it for talking points. Well, now she's moved on to poop.
Our heroine, Stella, is petite and perky-boobed and has the personality of a water faucet. She has two hobbies: cartography and being constipated. Her BFF is totally sympathetic and takes her out to a pizza place to order a pie called the "Vesuvius" which is an irradiated bioweapon filled with hot throbbing peppers and more juicy phallic symbolism. It does the trick, and when Stella comes home, she takes the shit of her life.
Who's also the love of her life.
Okay, so here's the thing. If you tell me how smooth and warm the poop is like ten dozen times, I'm going to think that she's going to fuck the poop. And when you describe your book as a "fiery fecal romance," I'm going to be expecting the heroine to fuck the poop. I'm not going to like it, but it's what I came here for.
Instead, Stella buys a pram for the poop and takes it out to the store and all sorts of other places, like it's a cute kitten in a bonnet and not a scatological midlife crisis. People just don't understand their love, but that's okay. They have each other-- until they don't. Sob, sob. It's like ME BEFORE YOU... with poop.
I am so disappointed by this book, okay. I was expecting I FUCKED THE POOP MAN and instead I got MR. HANKY'S VALENTINE'S SPECIAL. I didn't think it was popular to troll while trolling, but Edwards set this up like it was a porno, only to not deliver any payoff. It would be like the pizza man delivering the box to the negligee clad actress and then walking away and going to Quiznos. Who goes to Quiznos? AND ALSO, WHAT ABOUT THE PORN? It would be ingenious if I weren't so mad.
P.S. This was the best/worst line in the book:
they both were wearing nice tops that showed off their boobs, because both of them had nice boobs and when they stood next to each other it looked like this: OOOO (7).
1 out of 5 stars