Book Reviews For Wine Moms

By Sharon Blanda

An excerpt from The Adult Issue, out now!

Greetings, ladies, it’s Sharon, your new best friend. This week we have another hefty sack of novels to sift through. We have a few fantastic selections: some, sadly, corporately-published, and one brave self-published. No need for big name authors here. I picked the best of the best, and brought them to you, personally. Intimately. Pour yourself a glass of that Franzia blush and buckle in, honey! Because this one’s going to be a doozie.

Lydia in the Wild, Mary Contrary, Penguin Publishing, 2017:

Lydia, our main character, is a small, religious, big-city girl with a tiny vagina. She’s your average lover – small and big-city-dwelling. Working full-time at a failing New York tabloid writing book reviews has left her womanhood parched as a puckering sundried tomato (and no, more oil-based lube won’t solve feminine dryness caused by years of sexual dissatisfaction). Attempts at seducing her 60-year-old married boss have proven less than fruitful. Lydia is exhausted, barely finding time on the weekends to pleasure herself with the $5 bullet vibrator she bought at Spencer’s on a dare at a bachelor party. When work sends her to the Wild Wild West of Newark, New Jersey for a research project, she discovers a big, small-town boy with a big, small, and medium member who will show her the ropes, quite literally. Within the first fourteen pages, Lydia is whisked away from the Big Apple to a life of shoddy investigative journalism, lassoes, and bondage (oh god, the bondage). Will Lydia leave her life of subdued mediocrity in a stifling city to bond to her rugged Rutgers cowboy in holy matrimony and sumptuous sanctified sex? This book, being only thirty pages with 32-point text, is an easy and steamy beach-read to leave by your husband’s bedside in an effort to get him to buy more Cialis, maybe pay some attention to lady-parts that, like Lydia’s, are bone-dry and unloved. Bring your bifocals and sarong down to the beach and give this one a hot read. 4.5/5 stars

How to Raise a Straight Daughter When You Are Questioning Your Own Sexuality (For Dummies), John Wiley & Sons, John Wiley & Sons, 2017 :

We’ve all done it, ladies. You’re at the soccer game waiting for your boy Cayden to come off the field (because your husband refuses to pick him up on Wednesdays, much like he refuses to satisfy your feminine needs). Your arms are full of juice boxes and other electrolyte-rich drinks for youngsters, when suddenly, you are struck by a divine beauty walking towards you. She introduces herself to you as Marlene, mother to Cayden’s friend Bricyn. She offers you a hand, and when she reaches out to take some of the drinks from your arms, to lighten your heavy load, you can’t help but notice her massive tidz. Is she pregnant? No, her stomach is totally flat, as can be seen through her well-fitted cashmere J. Crew cowl-neck sweater. Are they fake? No, they bounce like real bazookas (here, the handbook includes diagrams). Wait, you ask yourself, why are you thinking so much about this woman’s juggalos? Are you a pervert? Or worse – are you a lesbo? (I didn’t THINK I was raised on the Isle of Lesbos! The book even features a map) You shake these thoughts from your mind, but you cannot forget how giant her knockers were. Later that day at home, your teenage daughter comes home from the mall with – gasp! – a nose ring. Knowing that nose rings are used to tie women together – an act of lesbian sex – you demand that she remove it from her nose. But not so fast! Raising a straight daughter isn’t as easy as telling her to remove metal objects from her various cartilaginous body parts. To raise a straight daughter, you must be a straight icon. You must exude straightness. Your very coochie must ooze heterosexuality. Forget about the big-boobied-biddy you met at the soccer game and get yourself straightened up, first. 3.5/5 stars, -1.5 stars for too much breast description.

Cooking with Charlie, Sharon Blanda, Selfpublished, 2017:

This book has everything. Have you ever found yourself alone on a Sunday evening with nowhere to go but your refrigerator? Your husband is at work, he said. He’ll be home late, he said. Your children are already in bed, and your big-mouthed friends are at the Suburban Ladies Sunday Night Book and Hors d’Oeuvres Club without you. Once, Janice accidentally invited you on a Facebook event, then deleted it as soon as you noticed. You don’t talk to Janice anymore, because you’re too busy working for a big-name magazine. Yes. A big-name magazine. You find yourself alone, with no one to comfort you but – oh? Who is this, knocking on your refrigerator door? It’s Mr. Charles Shaw! Everyone’s favorite cheap $3 boy from Trader Joe’s, his tender red and white varieties pleasuring your palate with a tart tang. He is so good to you, and treats you so kindly. Charlie would never stay late at work. Charlie would never uninvite you to a social event. Charlie is a kind and giving lover; an affordable and high-alcohol-content friend. Cook with him. Chardonnay? Try the “Scalp Your Cheating Husband Scallops with Linguine.” Merlot? Roast an entire “Put Your Book Club Up Your Ass, Janice Pot Roast” and eat it with your bare hands from the crock pot. Make passionate love to this recipe book, as if you haven’t been fucked in years. This recipe masterpiece, written by yours truly, and featuring colorful and life-life illustrations by my son, was rejected from Penguin, Random House, Houghton-Mifflin, HarperCollins, Simon & Schuster, and even Tyndale (I took the fucking swears out!), but can be found as a self-publication on Amazon. 5/5 stars