I like reading fantasy books written for middle school girls (and boys, to a lesser extent). This does not mean that I don't also enjoy books for grown-ups, and I am willing to try those that sound good. Such as City of Dark Magic, by Magnus Flyte, which promised Prauge, and alchemy, and music, and academia, and dangerous magic.
If I had read its blurb on Amazon more closely, I might also have realized that it promised "tantric sex in a public fountain." I might, at that point, have passed on it.
I have no particular issue with sex in fiction, especially when it comes after spine-tingling build-up of tension between two characters I care about. Sadly, that wasn't the case here.
Sarah, the main character, is a musicology grad student who loves her physical frolics, and this is fine, although I don't see why I had to read details about past frolics that aren't relevant to the plot at hand (yes, it tells me a lot about Sarah, but not subtly). More off-putting was that her main worry when meeting her new colleagues is that, because of clogged airplane sinuses, her preternatural pheromone sensitivity is not going to be in evidence. Off-putting as well was the unsubtle introduction of a lesbian character (an expert on antique weaponry) who, like so many people, is attracted to Sarah for no clear reason other than to bring sex into everyone's mind again and demonstrate the marvellous health of Sarah's libido.
But what I really never wanted to read were the details of how Sarah found masturbation incredibly helpful when studying for her SATs so many years ago. Distasteful, and irrelevant.
I could not help but feel that the author was finding his sexy babe character incredibly titillating, and this made me feel squicky. So that was the end of me reading City of Dark Magic, before I really got to the dark magic part. Sigh.
Undeterred, I've started another fantasy grown up book--The Magicians, by Lev Grossman. And I've realized that I don't like it when I'm compelled to visualize the main character peeing in the shower.
This doesn't happen in middle grade fiction.