Here Are Your Selections for Our Bonkbuster Summer Book Club

Illustration by Angelica Alzona.
Illustration by Angelica Alzona.

The people have spoken!


The sexy mass market classics for which you have opted are: Lace, by Shirley Conran; Outlander, by Diana Gabaldon; and The Witching Hour by Anne Rice. This is despite a very good run by Judy Blume’s Wifey, which came within a mere 20 votes of dethroning the Highland time-traveling tale. I also can’t believe you guys didn’t go for the prehistoric fuckfest that is Jean M. Auel’s The Valley of Horses, but I’m sure I’ll find an excuse to write about it eventually.

To kick things off, for the month of June, we’ll be reading Lace. Put it on your calendar for Wednesday, June 28th. The flap copy, via Amazon:

“Which one of you bitches is my mother?”

Four elegant, successful, and sophisticated women in their forties are called to New York’s Pierre Hotel to meet Lili — a beautiful, young, and notoriously temperamental Hollywood movie star. None of the women knows exactly why she is there; each has a reason to hate Lili and each of them is astonished to see the others. They are old friends who share a guilty secret and who have for years been doing their best to keep that secret quiet. Their lives are changed forever, however, when Lili suddenly confronts them. When the women refuse to answer her, Lili proceeds to travel around the world through the playgrounds of the rich and famous, seeking to answer the question that has obsessed and almost destroyed her.

From Paris to London, from the boardroom to the bedroom, Lace takes the reader into the rarified world of five unforgettable women who are as beautiful, as complex and as strong as...lace.


Excited to have one too many glasses of rosé and start giggling hysterically at thought of opening every conversation all summer, company-wide meetings included, with “WHICH ONE OF YOU BITCHES IS MY MOTHER?”

In late July we’ll do Outlander—a nice refresher for the fall return of the TV show—and finally, for August, we’ll reserve Anne Rice’s titanically WTF The Witching Hour.

Senior Editor, Attic Haunter, Jezebel

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My mother is an avid reader. She’s probably forgotten more books than I’ve ever read, even though she passed her love of reading on to me.

My favorite literature-centric story of hers is that she was reading The Witching Hour when she worked night shifts at the hospital, and she loved it. She said she could barely put it down, but then when the ending came, she hated it SO much. (I’ve never read it, so I have no idea what her issue with it was.). She said she stewed so much about it that by the time she was driving home at like 6am, she was so incandescent with rage that she just threw the entire thousand page book out the window of her moving vehicle, then turned around she she could run over it with her car. (We lived in a suburb outside of Omaha and the roads were empty at the time, so she didn’t endanger anyone.) The woman has strong passions when it comes to books.

I always find myself hoping that someone ended up eventually finding that copy of the run-over Witching Hour and it became their favorite book or something.