Prurience isn’t the best reason to read a romance novel featuring two men and a woman, but I willingly admit it was a key one for me in this case. The fact that Home for Three was free also contributed, as salaciousness for its own sake should always be a bargain. This contemporary romance features an established gay couple who meet the woman of their dreams. Can the three of them find a way to create a family?
Home for Three is Queer Eye for the Straight Guy with a woman and coitus. Earning prurience demerits, the sex wasn’t particularly enjoyable; moreover, the writing included some odd choices, and, even for an escapist novel, the whole thing read like a silly female fantasy about cliched gay men who are only as gay as they need to be to fill your fashion and culture needs, but still want to have sex with you.
Gay Selwyn* and bisexual Jack have been together for a year. When they need a realtor, Kess enters their lives and they both find themselves overwhelmingly attracted to her and she to them. After the usual romance novel kink trope – a “Mother May I?” phase for Kess – the three become romantically involved. How could she possibly resist these stereotypical men who are attracted to men? “You’ve got two men with disposable income and creative flair, taking you to exclusive art shows and private poetry readings.” Selwyn is a costume designer who makes snide comments about Kess’s wardrobe before treating her like a living doll and creating an entirely new one for her including admonishing her to wear matching bras and panties, while Jack is a successful sculptor who introduces her to the sophisticated world of high culture. For a genre I love built on tropes and limited story lines, this was too much even for me. Kess gets to have it both ways and it’s poppycock.
Having been distracted by the especially implausible plotting, I’d like to move on to savouring writing choices made by Nicole Stewart.
Jack sighed as he slid his arms into a deep purple watered silk blouse.
(Note: He’s not cross-dressing.)
…Kess, with interest and apprehension, studied the two men sitting on the artisanal sofa.
(That’s a mic drop, that one is.)
There was a flautist improvising a score to accompany the poem , and Mitch tapped a drum with his fingertips.
And you’ve hurt me, too. I am a guileless lover.
(He’s also a recalcitrant dishwasher and a gormless automechanic.)
LGBT romance recommendations can be found here.
*Selwyn is a person of colour which I mention because diversity in romance is welcome and needs to encouraged.