The material of the dress clung tantalizingly to what little wasn't revealed of her breasts. She would've had to have had super glue to keep the heavy dress from slipping down to the floor. Jane inadvertently cringed at the thought of that.
The heroine's face was turned away in melodramatic terror, as the man with a firm jawed expression in place gripped her bare upper arm no doubt preparing to toss her onto the bed behind them where he would complete his ravishment of her. As fake and unreal, as the book's cover art was it was still somehow alluring in some way.
The two people on it were beautiful and whole. One got the impression that they would work out well together. No doubt the tried but true plot line of the book would mirror that. After a period of raw animal like uncontrolled domination by the male the theme would turn to insipid love by the male for the woman during which time he would apologize for everything, even breathing and only bring out his wicked carnality, when it was snapped for in demand by the woman.
Eventually after much up-and-down emotional drama the woman would admit that she actually did love him. The two would be married and live well with plenty of money they didn't work for and live happily ever after with a baby in a baby carriage. Emotional rot was what it really was!
Real life didn't play out like the fictitious rendering before her. People, who were raped were scarred for life by it. For some, dreams no matter how honestly thought and prayed for, would never come to completion and many in this life would die yearning for something finer.
People who wrote this kind of stuff preyed on the fantasies of those locked away by their own life circumstances, as they pined for a way out of it, even if only for a little while from the reality they seemed to be stuck in. A book such as this might provide that temporary boost of fantasy, but it would leave its reader unfulfilled and even more depressed than before. She should know, as she'd read enough of these type books herself.
A shadow fell across her and she quickly covered the sensual natured book up with another. She glanced up, way up.
I couldn't help but be slightly amused at the red tinged flush that had risen to the librarian's face at having been caught in the act of something uncomfortable.
She was quite pretty, if not a little bit short. I doubted that she cleared 5 feet and most likely was an inch short of it. While she was pretty she wasn't my type and I wasn't looking for a relationship at the moment.