Who would I recommend Daughter of the Moon Goddess to? Someone with the patience of Job. It’s got a squillion gushing reviews on Amazon, that great aggregator of mediocrity, so I guess someone out there likes having all their thoughts placed into their heads for them.

The book is as light as a feather as far as its ethereal and allegorical deftness. Beautiful prose all the way through, like a creeping vine. Graceful, dare I say elegant, even as it describes a bunch of gross stuff.

I must be even more contrary than my mother claims, because I confess I did not find the experience of reading the Priory to be anything like what was promised, and the more I’ve reflected on it after finishing the more disgruntled I’ve become with its notoriety. 

But now there are no more men. I am the only one left standing. And there are no more holes, to condone or to cover. Only a damn good book.