Submitting to Homosexual Advances

Last weekend, prompted by Jon Schwarz' enthusiastic recommendation, I read Charles McCarry's 1974 spy novel, The Tears of Autumn. There's always a risk in reading a book that someone has praised to the skies; one expects too much, and is let down, though the book might have been enjoyable if one had expected less.And your Promiscuous Reader, indiscriminate book slut that he is, felt let down.