Ah, there's nothing like a tall dark stranger. Once, on a fountain tour, I was stalked over the Ponte Vecchio and thru the streets of Florence by a dirty old man in a little red car the size of a grocery basket. He wasn't tall and dark (or at least, if he was, I didn't know about it. He did nothing for my fantasies, but I did learn some hard truths about Italian men. (Yes, they like to pinch.)

However, in My Carina, Reece Gabriel's recent Ellora's Cave release, gallery manager Regan has better luck than I ever did in tall dark Italian strangers. Giovanni Umberto Bellini-Morgan is "a young god," "like some kind of calendar come to life, a magazine cover, or a movie star fallen from heaven," "deep, azure eyes." "Jet-black hair, short and wavy," "Roman nose fit for the son of a Caesar." And what does our heroine do when she meets this paragon of male virtue? Drop her purse so that all of her unmentionables, makeup, tampons, porn—yes, a BDSM porn book—get scattered all over creation for all to see. And this coup is followed up by him tracking her down to her train coach — to return her passport. Let's just say they get to know each other really well, really fast. But—I've only talked about the first twenty-five pages. I haven't even scratched the surface.

Now for a quick analysis: there's a fast moving chemistry to be found in these pages even if the hero is a bit picture-perfect. There's a light feel to the erotica, even if the beginning is—at least realistically speaking—precipitous and abrupt. There's nothing wrong with jumping quickly into a story (does that in erotica mean jumping quickly into sex? I don't know,) but these two did jump into their encounter/relationship awfully fast, even for erotica. I have mixed feelings about characters who take no precautions—I never know if they live in a divergent world, one without STDs, or if a mention of STDs or pregnancy is a token souvenir pandering to the public gods of political correctness. Personally, I spit in the eye of political correctness because Story is King (and yet, conversely, do writers have some ethical/public responsibility?), and move on from there. But, I digress from the story...

You'll enjoy this book if you're interested in BDSM that is a light read, if you like contemporary stories with a minimum of external conflict--and not too much internal conflict either--if you recognize a significant amount of character posturing for the sake of a trace of trumped-up angst required for role-playing when you (and I and everyone and their brothers) know there's no other direction the characters can possibly go however much they hem and haw. And, with my apologies, we should all pause for breath after that last sentence.

There's no darkness here, just a contemporary tale; My Carina is a story for romantics, as well as those who are interested in the lighter side of BDSM.

Reviewer: Maitresse
© November 2005