In a conversation with an older friend recently, she happened to mention an erotic novel that she loved when she was in her 20s, in the 1970s. My friend is Australian, and the novel in question, familiar to Australian mothers and grandmothers everywhere, is Colleen McCullough’s The Thorn Birds.
Ironically, I was given the book recently, and it seemed the right thing to do to review it for this column.
Read the rest here.
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