
The Flesh Is Wild, which was published in 1966 by Saber-Tropic Books with the beautiful art you see here, is about a naive virgin named Lola Trent who’s working at a newspaper called The Independent and is asked by her boss to prettify herself and get next to reclusive one-percenter Stuart Bryant for a story. Crawling into bed with him is openly part of the task. How else is she supposed to bring his guard down? For a substantial raise she takes the dubious job and—surprise!—falls in love with Bryant but never reveals to him that he was an assignment. We think of these as timebomb plots, which is when the protagonist should reveal a truth immediately but doesn’t, and subsequently loses the very thing they most desire when the secret blows up in their face. Many, many romantic comedy films and not a few novels are built around this device, and probably every one of them is better executed than The Flesh Is Wild. Moore does manage to bring a little heat to the sex scenes without getting overly explicit, but that success is not enough to make the book recommendable. Nor is the excellent Bill Edwards cover. In our opinion you can give this one a pass.




































