Thoroughly enjoyed this book. It reads as a diary, short little chapters, of a married woman's most private thoughts. I got it at Target, of all places, for about $13.
Here is one review:
"An intensely honest look at a woman’s inner thoughts and desires."
A woman disappears, leaving behind an incendiary diary chronicling a journey of sexual awakening. To all who knew her, she was the good wife: happy, devoted, content. But the diary reveals a secret self, one who's discovered that her new marriage contains mysteries of its own. She has discovered a forgotten Elizabethan manuscript that dares to speak of what women truly desire, and inspired by its revelations, she tastes for the first time the intoxicating power of knowing what she wants and how to get it. The question is: How long can she sustain a perilous double life?This P.S. edition features an extra 16 pages of insights into the book, including author interviews, recommended reading, and more.
So, I guess I read the PS version of the book. I think I just glanced at the 16 added pages of text, and saw that it was the author explaining why she first published this book "anonymously". Obviously, writing it anonymously allowed her to be exquisitely honest. Some of the sexual fantasies she referred to, must be more universal than I thought. And as a wife and mum of two, it was probably easier for her to admit them anonymously. But today, I can only assume it is the book's success that made her come out of the shadows and claim it.
Anyway, besides the subject matter being so near and dear to my heart, here are some of the turns of phrases author Nikki Gemmell used which I underlined as I read:
His smile, like an umbrella whooshed out.
(talking about love letters...) Your dipping heart, seduced by text.
Theo was sloppy with the relationship, never turned up to dinner parties with a bottle of wine, never sent thank-you cards...
You concentrate on making the flat very beautiful, very spare and pale, like the inside of a white balloon... and it is as silent as a skulll as you enter.
You're astounded at how closely hate can nudge against love, can wind around it sinuously like a cat. An emptiness when you relalize that the lonliest you've ever been in within a marriage, as a wife.
Goose bumps sprint across your skin
The air is fat with the approaching summer
(While on holiday in Marrakech, after visiting the open air markets) For just a fleeting moment you imagine yourself naked with your legs wide and several anonymous, assessing men and their hands running over you, You imagine being filmed, being bought.
Gabriel feels you as if he is a blind man reading the secrets of your inner skin.
What passed as pleasure before was a cardboard cut-out of it.
(As she talks about her feelings going cold) You feel your body shutting down, bit by bit, like an office block's lights being switched off at night.
(After her first tryst) feeling intensely alive, as if years have been stripped from your body. Feeling engorged between your legs, plumped, softened, filled up. Smi.ing into the impatient dusk and flitting your fingers to your nose, a cocktail of smells, the stamp of two bodies upon them.