Shameless by Pamela Madsen

I read this over the weekend. Someone tweeted it.

This is a story about a woman who started getting erotic massages.

Now, that was a new pitch for me, and the library had a copy, so, I figured, why not?  I kind of liked the idea.

The only downside is that you spend your entire reading experience really wishing someone would rub your shoulders.

Partway through the book, she finds her dream masseur–a hot, young, sarong-clad gay man named “Tiger.” He’s not just any erotic massage provider.

Oh, no.

He’s giving New Age hippie woo woo massages.  Insanely expensive woo woo massages.  ”Sexual healing.”

Damn it all.

She found something called “Sacred Intimacy.”  It’s yet another guru-based hippie system featuring numerous tantric-workshopped, life-coached healer guys, including one that jackhammered her g-spot until she cried.

I live in Northern California. This is, like, Ground Zero for New Age hippie woo-woo. I’ve heard it all. I can’t go anywhere socially out here without running into someone claiming to be an “energy worker.” You can pretty much charge people out the ass for anything.

So, there I am thinking, “Oh my, this woman accidentally joined a sex cult.”

Whatever floats your boat, I guess.

After sex blogging got her in trouble at work, she applied the model, joined a training pyramid of some sort, and started her very own sex cult. For 150 bucks she’ll talk to you for 50 minutes on Skype. For four grand, you can go to her retreat, where, presumably, you’ll spend a lot of time feeling various forms “energy.”

Always with the energy with these people.