Title: I Search For Sin-sation
Author: Alvin Browne
Cover artist: Uncredited, unheralded, unloved
Estimated value: $No Idea (lots)
Condition: 8/10
[Newest addition to the Doug Peterson Collection]
- I haven't stopped laughing since I realized (about 30 seconds ago) that the title is "I Search for Sinsation" and not, as I genuinely thought it was, "I Search for Sin Station"—"Siri, where the fuck is Sin Station? I've been driving around this shitty neighborhood for hours! I'm going to miss my train! Reroute!"
- What kind of giant leaf-based contraption is she wearing around her shoulders!?
- What kind of shitty, wrinkled, ragged, no-backed couch is that?
- She is moments from toppling over—mid leg-cross, her left (fear!) hand hoping to find leverage and support on non-existent couch arm.
- Those shoes make no sense with that ensemble, and yet they are the least stupid thing on this cover.
- Ah, this rhetorical style (INSANE PHRASE ... gibberish ... INSANE PHRASE) is typical of many many sleaze paperback back covers of '60s.
- I love the legalistic tone here. "Whereas the full bodied girl heretofore mentioned is in her rights pertaining to the first part of the second sex clause..."
- "Bed-boredom!"
- Let's get Physical (answer)!
Page 123~
Her breasts were basketballs hanging almost to her navel.
OK, I cheated, that's p. 122. But it begged to be quoted. Here's p. 123:
She would have sworm (sic!) there'd been straps on her now naked shoulders when they'd sat down. Her partner was bent down over her breasts. She dismissed her suspicions. No one could be that openly trampish.
There really aren't enough (sic!)s in the world. That typo ... it's not an outlier. Here's something from the opening (teaser) page of this novel:
He kissed her and cupped a breast in his hand she felt a quiver race through her. (sigh, sic)
"It's time we ment to bed," he said huskily. (Sickety sic)
She felt desire mounting within her loins.
And So Forth.
~RP
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