If You Liked Fifty Shades....

... then you're going to LOVE what I have in store for you next. As I was perusing the shelves of used books at a charity shop in Helensburgh today, I stumbled across Bared to You, a Fifty Shades ripoff spawned by Sylvia Day. It was in that shop, with my dear husband, mortified that I was actually going to present this book to the cashier and pay real money for it, that I decided this would be my next blogging adventure. Below, I have provided the printed synopsis of the book as a sort of disclaimer: read on at your own risk. 

Gideon Cross came into my life like lightning in the darkness - beautiful and brilliant, jagged and white hot. I was drawn to him as I'd never been to anything or anyone in my life. I craved his touch like a drug, even knowing it would weaken me. I was flawed and damaged, and he opened those cracks in me so easily… 

Gideon knew. He had demons of his own. And we would become the mirrors that reflected each other's most private wounds… and desires. 

The bonds of his love transformed me, even as I prayed that the torment of our pasts didn't tear us apart…

Our journey begins in Manhattan with Eva Tramell and her roommate (boyfriend?) Cary Taylor. Eva has just landed a new job and Cary wants to go celebrate with some wine, but Eva needs to walk to work and then go to the gym, which will apparently take the entire day. Careful not to over-exert herself before the workout begins, Eva takes the elevator to the ground floor of her apartment building.

'In my dreams, I'd imagined living in a walkup in Brooklyn, but being a dutiful daughter, I found myself on the Upper West Side instead. If not for Cary living with me, I would've been miserably lonely in the sprawling apartment that cost more per month than most people made in a year.' -- There's quite a lot to unpack here. First, why do your parents need you to live on the Upper West Side? Do they live there? Are they paying your rent? Are they afraid of Brooklyn? Second, a teensy tiny bit of research (literally 2 Google searches here, people) will tell you that the median household income in 2012, when your book was published, for the Upper West Side was $93,258*. The median household income for the entirety of New York City in that year was $50,711**. Today, right this minute, 2-bedroom apartments in the Upper West Side are on the market for $3,000 - $7,000 per month***. Even if we account for two incomes in a household - let's say hypothetically, that the two adults make $25,355 a year each- please. Please, explain to me how you expect me to believe that your previously unemployed protagonist is living in an apartment that somehow amounts to somewhere between $304,266 and $608,532 a year****. 

*https://project.wnyc.org/median-income-nabes/

**https://project.wnyc.org/median-income-nabes/

***https://www.zillow.com/homes/for_rent/Upper-West-Side-Manhattan-New-York-NY/apartment_duplex_type/270958_rid/2-_beds/40.807702,-73.940778,40.766436,-74.014593_rect/13_zm/

****25,355 and 50,711 multiplied by 12, respectively

She leaves her house and contemplates life in the city. She moved from San Diego, a city probably built from sticks and mud and traversed by horse-drawn carriages, and is amazed that technology exists.

'I was in awe of the lumbering garbage trucks that navigated tiny one-way streets and the package delivery drivers who braved the bumper-to-bumper traffic while facing rigid deadlines.'

As she walks to work, she contemplates how she ended up here. She's determined to make a living 'on her own merits,' and so will be starting an entry-level job. It's clear she values responsibility and adulthood, demonstrated by the fact that her father is paying her student loans (and probably her rent too), and apparently insists on doing so. 

'I pulled my new ID card out of the inner pocket of my pants and held it up for the two guards in black business suits at the desk. They stopped me anyway, no doubt because I was majorly underdressed, but then they cleared me through. After I completed an elevator ride up to the twentieth floor, I'd have a general time frame for the whole route from door to door. Score.'

On her way to the elevators, she falls flat on her ass and finally comes face to face with the man I assume she's going to be seeing a lot of in the next 5 (yes, FIVE) books.

'Inky black hair framed a breathtaking face. His bone structure would make a sculptor weep with joy while a firmly etched mouth, a blade of a nose, and intensely blue eyes made him savagely gorgeous.

........

"Are you all right?"

His voice was cultured and smooth, with a rasp that made my stomach flutter. It brought sex to mind. Extraordinary sex. I thought for a moment that he might be able to make me orgasm just by talking long enough.'

She goes home and Cary has some bizarre form of spaghetti waiting for her ('tiny tubes of salad noodles covered in a skimpy tomato sauce with lumps of ground beef and peas'). She relays her experience with the man she has dubbed "Dark and Dangerous" over dinner and wine. Cary was horrified to learn she hadn't flirted with the stranger, and conversation turned to his modelling career. Maybe that's how they afford such a grand apartment.

Eva's first day of work went the way most first days of work go - introductions, tours, generally taking it easy. She'd not had another run-in with Dark and Dangerous all day, but then it was time to go home.

'When I reached the bank of elevators, I pulled out my cell to text a quick "On my way" note to Cary. A ding alerted me to which car was stopping on my floor and I moved over to stand in front of it, briefly returning my attention to hitting the send button. When the doors opened, I took a step forward. I glanced up to watch where I was going and blue eyes met mine. My breath caught.

The sex god was the lone occupant.'