Schey Place Books

I was very happy to open my emails this morning and discover that my forth book, Patagonian Affair had received a 5 Star review from the good people over at Reader Views. Apart from the kind words, this also puts me in the running for the 2026 Reader Views award for Erotica. Does it stand a chance? Find out below.

Patagonian Affair

J.L. Collins
Schey Place Books (2024)
ISBN: 979-8215926567
Reviewed by Paul Knobloch for Reader Views (04/2026)

Patagonian Affair, the fourth book in The Love of a Lifetime series by J.L. Collins, is an ambitious, non-linear, genre-blending narrative that is equal parts erotic confession, psychological portrait, and high-seas adventure. Our protagonist and occasional narrator—we move from first to third person throughout—is Christian Holland, a charismatic young man, a bit of a lady’s man, and certainly someone who approaches life with a flair for improvisation.

The novel opens in Canberra in 2003 with Camilla, who, after years in a secret affair, finally recognises the depth of her feelings. As the text makes clear, “She had to tell Christian that she loved him,” but her timing is off. Following a dramatic turn of fortune, Christian is soon out of the picture. This early asymmetry sets the tone for the novel’s emotional landscape, where desire and recognition rarely align, leaving Camilla’s love on hold.

As mentioned, Christian’s loose, improvisational style clearly extends into the arena of his relationships. This is addressed quite explicitly in the text, with his friends often offering good-natured chiding, as when one remarks:  “But true to form, Christian had managed to land the only reasonable bit of tail within 100 nautical miles and was banging a six-foot Norwegian goddess on the side.”

We next see Christian flash forward to his future relationship with Alison, a woman whose continued sexual growth and willingness to experiment lead her to make a sex tape with him. When they meet again, she insists on filming their encounter. The clinical detachment she shows stands in sharp contrast to the lovelorn Camilla, seeming more concerned with technical details than with emotional connection:  “I didn’t have anything better, but I think it will work out fine. I will have to stay in frame, but the lighting is more than adequate.”

Christian’s picturesque life trajectory next takes him to Peru, where he finds himself suffering from severe altitude sickness, noting that he must stop every few steps to catch his breath. We then catch up with our protagonist on—of all places—a boat that is being hotly pursued by armed officials:  “In heavy seas, a motley crew of South African security contractors boarded us and, brandishing ageing submachine guns and rusting shotguns, took over the ship.”

Christian gives them a fake name, and after they make it to Australia he manages to don a disguise and actually escape. However, the one thing he cannot outrun is the women in his life, as the threat tied to a woman named Sally continues to shadow him even after his return. Faced with the consequences of these entanglements, he turns once again to evasion, formulating a plan to remove himself entirely—a job “far away on the other side of the world,” where he will be all but impossible to reach.

In the end, the novel’s fragmented and episodic structure comes into focus as more than a stylistic choice; it mirrors the shape of Christian’s life itself. As he moves from affair to adventure to crisis, he passes through a series of disconnected moments that never quite cohere into a stable identity. Whether in the emotional asymmetry of Camilla, the performative control of Alison, or the danger surrounding Sally, relationships are never resolved so much as deferred. The non-linear narrative reinforces this pattern, presenting a life defined less by growth than by repeatedly sidestepping consequences and avoiding entanglement.

Christian comes across as a very modern kind of drifter. His life may be fast-paced and eventful, but it isn’t necessarily meaningful. He moves through a world where identities can be assumed and discarded, where travel offers only temporary refuge, and where even intimacy can be reframed as performance. Collins’ Patagonian Affair doesn’t quite celebrate or condemn him, instead ending on an ambivalent note that leaves us with a portrait of a dislocated contemporary man still trying to figure himself out.