OK, so I read The Gingerbread Tryst, a book by Nichelle Gregory, that Jill Noble very kindly sent to me after I erm, questioned the wisdom of using a much-loved, innocent fairytale character in an erotic book.

Here’s the blurb:

Meet Marisa, a restless homemaker who spends her time baking, masturbating and dabbling in magic. Happily married, Marisa only wishes her husband Don could keep up with her insatiable need for sex. She craves orgasms daily and her sex drive has become a sore spot in an otherwise happy marriage. Determined to find a solution to ramp up Don’s libido, she turns to magic.

After trying magical amulets and oils, Marisa discovers a book that contains wish spells. Throwing caution to the wind, she decides to experiment with an incantation that could make her naughty gingerbread man cookie a real flesh and blood man. Taken by surprise . . . literally, Marisa indulges in a delicious sexual rendezvous that ends up going further than she could have ever imagined. This delightfully sexy tale offers up hot thrills sure to please any sweet tooth!

Where do I begin?

The narrative of the Gingerbread Tryst was fairly whimsical, (I think that was the aim) and the story was told in the traditional fairytale way, you know what I mean, once upon a time…, blah blah blah. I think the author was probably trying to channel the Brothers Grimm, and whilst I could clearly see what she was trying to do, I’m not convinced her execution was all that successful. Not when one considers that eventually the heroine ends up having a threesome that included some bloke formed from a lump of cookie dough.

I knew I was going to have a problem with the writing when the heroine was described as a middle-aged woman:

Somewhere not far from the city, lived a middle-aged woman named Marisa with her husband, Don.

The thing about Marisa was that she didn’t seem to know how lucky she was. Her and her husband had phenomenal sex, he gave her everything a woman could ask for, he built her an amazing kitchen, and still she wasn’t happy, because apparently being shagged regularly wasn’t enough for her.

The author tried to paint Marisa as a bored and lonely housewife, as the following excerpt shows, but I couldn’t get past her utter selfishness.

Although Marisa loved her husband very much, she spent a lot of time alone as a result of her husband’s hectic work schedule, which left her feeling lonely and bored with her homemaker’s life. A loner, she spent her time decorating their home, dabbling in magic, cooking or masturbating.

Don’t you just love that? The author cleverly listing all the mundane things that this middle-aged home-maker did, then just casually throwing in ‘dabbling in magic and masturbating’ as if they were hobbies comparable to cooking. Sheer fucking genius, don’tcha think?

As previously mentioned, Marisa was a gal who liked to have an orgasm before she baked. Honestly, she was a woman after my own heart, I often need to masturbate just before I turn the oven on. Oh yeah baby, you guys should try it, it’s truly exhilarating. Truly.

The orgasm spiraled from deep within, zipping through her body in dizzying vibrations, making her cry out. She opened her eyes, unable to focus as the walls of her vagina continued to quiver around the toy. Breathing more slowly, Marisa took the dildo from her pussy and tasted her own juices. She became aware of the music again as it crested into a soothing finale. Now she was ready to bake!

She also liked to bake nude in order to heighten her senses whilst cooking.

Baking in the nude was another little secret of Marisa’s that Don didn’t know about. Marisa loved the feel of her cotton apron against her bare breasts as she cooked. The sensation of the rough cotton texture rubbing her nipples as she worked in the kitchen was a turn on and Marisa was convinced she baked better when she was aroused.

Something else she and I have in common. I was just saying to TTG the other day, how fantastic it was to be wearing my birthday suit whilst frying eggs and roasting chicken. With the exception of that day when some sizzling oil splashed onto my beringed nipple, Nekkid Cooking is just a blast. Truly.

Oh yeah, Marisa luuurved sex, and she was forever trying to create lotions and potions that would rev up her hubby’s libido, mostly without his knowledge.

Did I mention that she was also fond of surfing the internet looking for sex aids to supplement her desperate need for sex?

Anyway, moving on, one day Marisa ventures into a bookshop and finds a book of erotic incantations. She takes the book home, and decides to practice one of the spells on some gingerbread cookie dough.

After a quick roll, the use of cinnamon sticks as a makeshift cock, and testicles made out of raisins , she’s left with one nicely carved Gingerbread man.

He would be just like the mischievous cookie in the classic fairytale from her childhood except he’d chase after her and . . . . Pound my pussy until I can’t take it anymore. Marisa laughed out loud at her dirty thoughts.

Anyway, after casting her spell, the gingerbread man turns into a hot dark dream lover, which is when the real fun begins. Yawn.

Admittedly, I wasn’t predisposed to love this book, but honestly, it was just taking the whole fairytale re-telling thing a bit too bloody far. Technically the story wasn’t great, the heroine needed a good twatting, and the sex was skeezy rather than erotic. In short, it read like a very bad first book, one that the author will no doubt one day deny she ever wrote. If her writing improves that is.

The Gingerbread Tryst has forever ruined the story of the Gingerbread man for me, and for that, I can never forgive the author.

I’ll leave you with one of the sex scenes between Marisa and Cookie Dough Man:

Dozing peacefully, Marisa awoke on her belly with warm hands massaging her ass. She sighed with delight, forgetting for a second what had happened. Turning her head she saw the face of her new lover and her heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t dreaming! Her thoughts turned fuzzy when he pushed into her tender pussy and began pumping her with booty-shaking, skin-slapping vigor.

She turned her face into the sheets, anchoring her hands against the headboard as he fucked her. She lost count of how many times she cried out, lost in an overwhelming vortex of ecstasy. He came with a grunt, collapsing next to her on the bed, both of them breathless and sweaty.

Hey, at least the cover doesn’t suck. That’s positive, right?

You can buy The Gingerbread Tryst from Noble Romance here. Good luck.