Jezebel has a fun weekly column where they review a book from our youth that was beloved by girls, from wholesome Laura Ingalls Wilder to slutty V.C. Andrews.
This week the book is Andrews' "My Sweet Audrina," which I definitely read, along with most of the early Andrews oeuvre. Good thing the review offers spoilers though, because I completely forgot the BIG TWIST ENDING.
Man, if our parents knew what we were reading, all hell would have broken loose, but blessedly, they had no idea. V.C. Andrews, and the syndicate that has written them for her since she died, had some really creepadelic ideas. I wonder if she set out to be known as "the incest can be romantic" author, or if that was just a side benefit.