Shout out to the Reading Room for my review copy of this novel.
Tea comes in a variety of flavours and to some extent, colours. There is Peppermint, Camomile or Green Tea for example. Even the humble black tea comes in a number of varieties--English Breakfast, Earl Grey, Ceylon. All tea is different and tea drinkers will usually favour one variety over another. This is where the expression, "Not my cup of tea," originates from. It's a way of explaining that the same thing can come in many varieties and some varieties are going to be preferable to others. You can use the expression on a number of things which are by means bad or terrible, but just not for you.
And so, consequently, I will start my review by saying this. Eighty Days Yellow was not my cup of tea. It is not technically a bad book--it was written by a pair of English authors, one of them quite established. The characters are well rounded and interesting. The writing isn't bad. It is certainly dark.
But it just wasn't for me. The story, of musician Summer who agrees to play a private concert for the sexually adventurous and dominant Dominik just did not digest well. The story itself is basically a darker shade of erotica. There is no romance. Just sex. And despite the way the novel is marketed, the author is very definitely a different cup of tea to what was served in Fifty Shades of Grey. The darker side of BDSM is definitely there. Summer doesn't always have a good time.
This is probably more for hardcore erotica fans than the occasional reader of romance. It is followed by two sequels and a spin-off.