After reading and reviewing Kissing the Coronavirus, some friends reached out and told me there was another masterpiece published that followed the same twisted theme. As soon as I saw the cover for Courting the Coronavirus I opened my Kindle app and hit that “purchase” button. I mean, what kind of hot, messy garbage was this one going to include? I knew I had to read and review it, and let all my friends know what wonders this weird little story told.
Fair warning: this review is full of SPOILERS and is very NSFW! Proceed with caution. Seriously. You’ve been warned.
I’d like to start by saying that yes, I do hate myself a little bit for reading another erotic pandemic story. Yes, they make me feel gross, but they also make me laugh so hard I literally start crying, so *shrugs,* whatever. Part of me wants to say I’m not going to read anymore of this garbage, but I also know if someone sends me another title I’m going to smash that “purchase” button immediately.
In Courting the Coronavirus we meet Joan, an undergraduate student who has somehow been tasked with working in the lab to help find a cure for COVID-19. However, she’s pissed about it. She hates COVID, but not because it’s killing thousands of people every single day.
No, she hates it because “it had put an end to her ability to party like the little whore she was at the fraternities and sororities that were the reason she came to this school in the first place.” The poor girl is horny and just wants to party! How dare a global pandemic stop her from doing that!! Anyway, good to know that the future of the planet is resting in her hands.
The lab she’s working in thankfully follows social distancing guidelines AND has a hadron collider. Why is this important? Because in this story, the hadron collider is actually a time machines. Spoiler: this is absolutely not real but adds a fun twist!
Jean is walking around with a vial of COVID (do labs actually have vials of the disease? Is that how science works??) and then slips on something and very dramatically drops the vial into the collider. Of course, the only logical next step is for her professor to push her through the collider and travel back to the nineteenth century to stop COVID from spreading too early.
I have to say, the scene where she is pushed through the collider (lmao, what???) is so overly sexual it made me somewhat uncomfortable. It’s so unnecessary, but I guess this entire story is, so I probably shouldn’t complain . . .
Anyway, once she arrives she finds out that the vial somehow turned into a human, and it’s name is, wait for it: COUNT COVID! All the peasant farmers hate this giant green man, but Jean promises that if they pool their money together to get her a ballgown, she’ll show up at his estate and destroy him.
She promises that she will defeat him “even if it meant bankrupting a thousand farmers. Even if it meant attending a million balls, eating a bajillion fresh oysters, or dancing with a zillion handsome and fabulously wealthy men.” Honestly, her commitment level is *chef’s kiss.*
But instead Count Covid ends up destroying her, if you know what I mean 😉
After a lot of eye fucking, quivering labia, and creating a splash zone (I truly wish I was making this shit up), Jean and Count Covid fall in love, and live happily ever after.
I was not expecting this story to end up being a time-travel romance, but hey, who the fuck thought 2020 would bring us pandemic porn? Not me, and yet here we are.
Once again, I’m going to end this review by kindly reminding everyone to stay safe, wear a mask, wash your hands, and please, don’t ever jump into a hadron collider. You will not time travel.