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Summary: Lady Katie Carlton leaves her abusive husband and finds sensuality and love in the arms of a samurai.
Written as if it were a Victorian tell-all (lots of Dear Reader, etc), The Blonde Samurai is an attempt to bring honor to infidelity. On her wedding night, Katie finds her husband involved in a wicked bout of sadomasochistic sex with two prostitutes off the street. She compromises and says she will stay married to her husband, but will never consummate the marriage.
From the first chapter, it was implausible. Not that I’ve been to many weddings in Victorian England (as I am quite a bit younger, Dear Reader) but her husband leaves her and her guests the night of the wedding (how exactly?) for an S&M romp with two maids and nobody notices? Hmmm.
So she remains celibately married and idly interested in her husband’s large collection of sex toys, until her husband abuses her one night and she runs off to be with a married samurai, Shintaro.
Shintaro's wife Nami can’t have children, so Shintaro has been bedding Akira, another man. So Katie must come to terms with her own infidelity, Shintaro’s infidelity, and his bisexuality. Once she gets those sticky moral dilemma figured out, they have another problem, a decision of hers leads to a battle where Shintaro’s lover is killed. Shintaro lost the battle and intends to commit seppuku, ritual suicide, because his honor is at stake. Then Katie intercedes with the Empress on Shintaro’s behalf, begging the Empress not to accept Shintaro’s offer of ritual suicide. Look, his honor is at stake and he’s married to someone else, why the hell would you so demean him as to challenge what his honor demanded? How shameful. The book talked all about honor and then she is crying and weeping as he’s about to commit seppuku.
The writing is just terrible. Florid and long-winded. If you want character-driven erotica, try Megan Hart’s Order of Solace book No Greater Pleasure. If you want pure sex, try something else, but leave this one alone.