Okay...I'm hooked...and am having as much fun reading the book as these critters are...
This is how life should be lived, dancing and prancing and reading funny works. This book is set along India's Northwestern Frontier in 1845, when the Sikhs were poised to overrun India and drive the British back to England. Harry Flashman is 23 years old and sent to the Punjab court as Her Majesty's envoy (and secret agent). Oh, the horror...
I'm just past page 100, and Flashy, as "the rutting little pig" calls himself (the line that came from damn near killed me) has just survived an assassination attempt while being bathed by a naked beauty after spending the whole night servicing a lovely, lewd Maharani. He is exhausted beyond measure, aches in every bone, and has been through more emotional ups and downs than a roller coaster has hills...and then he's faced with a lovely slave girl in his very own bed, wearing nothing but a flimsy strip of black gauze. She wants him, but all he wants more than anything in the world is to sleep. Desperately. Still, as he gazes upon the lovely female, he sighs and thinks, "To thine own self be true," and he puts temptation aside to give the girl exactly what she wants. Ah, the sacrifice...
James Bond's got nothin' on this boy.
This book is damn funny...and I'm going to keep reading till I figure out how the hell George Macdonald Fraser does it! But I have a feeling a lot of it stems from frolicking like ferrets in a box of styrofoam peanuts.
I have a friend who has a ferret; they really are like that.
This is how life should be lived, dancing and prancing and reading funny works. This book is set along India's Northwestern Frontier in 1845, when the Sikhs were poised to overrun India and drive the British back to England. Harry Flashman is 23 years old and sent to the Punjab court as Her Majesty's envoy (and secret agent). Oh, the horror...
I'm just past page 100, and Flashy, as "the rutting little pig" calls himself (the line that came from damn near killed me) has just survived an assassination attempt while being bathed by a naked beauty after spending the whole night servicing a lovely, lewd Maharani. He is exhausted beyond measure, aches in every bone, and has been through more emotional ups and downs than a roller coaster has hills...and then he's faced with a lovely slave girl in his very own bed, wearing nothing but a flimsy strip of black gauze. She wants him, but all he wants more than anything in the world is to sleep. Desperately. Still, as he gazes upon the lovely female, he sighs and thinks, "To thine own self be true," and he puts temptation aside to give the girl exactly what she wants. Ah, the sacrifice...
James Bond's got nothin' on this boy.
This book is damn funny...and I'm going to keep reading till I figure out how the hell George Macdonald Fraser does it! But I have a feeling a lot of it stems from frolicking like ferrets in a box of styrofoam peanuts.
I have a friend who has a ferret; they really are like that.
No comments:
Post a Comment