There are many reasons why I love Jeremy Edwards’ writing. I like writing that is sharp. I like writing that is witty. I like writing that is fun. And I like writing that is sexy. Several writers can manage a handful of these talents. But Mr Edwards is one of those rare writers who can consistently tick every box.
Spark My Moment is a collection of Jeremy Edwards’ short stories. Some of these stories have been published before. Others are getting their first airing in this collection. All of them are worth reading and savouring.
I can illustrate everything that’s right with Mr Edwards’ writing with the first story in this collection, ‘Mom-and-Pop Enterprise.’ On the surface this sounds like a poor place to begin a collection of erotic fiction. The concept of a Mom-and-Pop enterprise evokes images of an elderly couple embracing all the sexual shenanigans of athlete’s foot. But Mr Edwards has a way of usurping reader expectations.
The Mom and Pop in the title of the story are both in their mid-thirties and the epithets are convenient nicknames. More importantly, the enterprise they are involved in is youthfully exciting and integral to the shop location suggested by the title.
The narration too should be off-putting. In Mom-and-Pop Enterprise the narrator is omniscient – an old-fashioned style that can sometimes be viewed as too intrusive. Yet Mr Edwards’ voice is so charming and witty he manages to pull off the trick with an olde worlde narration that makes the whole episode pure bliss to read.
If you don’t believe me, check out this example:
Paul smiled at her — at her boots, at her pleated black mini, at her clingy jersey … but, most of all, at the glint in her eye. She observed that Paul’s eyes, in turn, were simmering on low heat, as they usually did when he was horny.
‘So, do you think Gregg will be in today?’ he asked casually.
‘Probably. He almost always shows up after lunch on Wednesdays.’
‘Yes, I thought so,’ Paul purred. ‘Now, the key is to keep his gaze from veering below your waist.’
Monica’s mouth was as dry as the Economist while she awaited clarification.
‘That way I can stand behind you — pretending to take inventory — and slowly slip your panties down your thighs, without his noticing.’
In a flash, Monica transitioned from dry upstairs to wet downstairs.
‘All the way down to the tops of those delicious boots.’
Mom’s vinyl-coated knees knocked together, and she broke into a hungry grin. Her skirt swished behind her as she went, keys jangling, to open herself up to the Port Cranberry world.
Sharp. Witty. Fun. Sexy. I don’t think you can ask for much more from an author of erotic fiction.
© 2010 Ashley Lister. All rights reserved.