Every year around this time my husband and I like to
go south. Just to get away from it all. Sun, surf, sand, and a little book
shopping in between. Hoping for a glorious time, you know? So imagine our deception
this year being unable to travel due to that shitty COVID-19 pandemic. It’s
probably the reason why I recently picked up MIAMI (1991, Crown) by the late Pat Booth. If nothing else, the
book will at least make me feel like I am back in the city.
MIAMI is all about former supermodel Christa Kenwood who owns
a modeling agency. She wants to make it big, and eventually does, when she gets
to steal sociopathic model du jour Lisa Rodriguez from Johnny Rosetti, her
competitor. Of course this does not bode well for Mr. Rosetti and soon enough,
revenge is in the works. Add a lover interest for our heroine in the form of a reputed
writer, a rich queen bee who can’t keep it in her pants, a religious hunk who’s
torn between what’s right and what’s wrong, a gay photographer who stands to win
big if he signs with Kenwood—not to mention page after page of descriptive sex scenes—and
you get a pretty good idea what’s in store for you.
Overall, I had a pretty good time reading MIAMI. In between Booth’s overblown narrative
I found a complete trashy and sexy novel. Patience is the key to this one.
Trying to mix sleaze with a literary approach isn’t always easy on the eye but
once past that bump, MIAMI does end
up doing justice to its title. Hot spots, hot bodies, hot sex. What more can
one want? Yes, the end result may not always be on target but at least it is one
step above the traditional racy romantic novel. So kudos to Pat Booth for
giving me the vacation I desperately needed despite remaining grounded in my
hometown.
Until next post—Martin
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| PB edition |
