Ecco Press, 272 pages, hardcover, $25.99

Alissa Nutting’s Tampa is a well-written, funny, brave, and sexy novel packed with satire and narrated by one of the most entertaining sociopaths since Alex, the main character in Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange. Sadly, that’s probably not the first thing many readers will tell you about it. Instead, they’ll probably decided to start any discussion by saying Tampa is very controversial. Since “controversial” is a word used to describe cultural objects, sociopolitical situations, and ethical decisions that will surely lead to public disagreement, those readers aren’t lying. However, controversial is also a word that carries a negative connotation and often leads to suppression, and this book needs to be celebrated, not censored.

Celeste Price is a beautiful 26-year-old middle-school teacher in Florida who has a penchant for adolescent boys despite the fact that she’s married…to a cop. At the start of every school year, she scouts her eighth-grade classes, chooses a student who meets her requirements, and proceeds to seduce him. This year, she picks Jack Patrick, a thin and bashful 14-year-old who lives with his father. Her plan goes perfectly, and soon the lascivious teacher is enjoying Jack’s inexperience and wonder as he discovers sex through erotic encounters with her in the empty classroom, her car, and eventually his house.

Celeste brilliantly and mischievously juggles work, her new relationship, and her husband without a glitch. Unfortunately, the youngster becomes attached to Celeste, the presence of Jack’s father puts pressure on them, and her husband’s hours at work change. Some compromises are made and the lies begin to pile on top of each other. When Jack’s father suffers a heart attack and Celeste’s sociopathic tendencies keep her from trying to save his life, the perfect arrangement begins to crumble. Ultimately, blood will be spilled, lives will change, and secrets will be exposed simply because sex with young boys is at the center Celeste’s every decision and action.

The plot is full of tension and sex, and Nutting manages to balance humor and crime without compromising either. However, the first reason you should read Tampa is to get to know Celeste Price. Sure, she’s a remorseless pedophile who will do anything to get what she wants, but that’s only the tip of a very dark, dangerous, and shrewd iceberg. Celeste is bad in a very fun way. She’s the kind of woman who drugs her husband so he’ll fall asleep and then spends the night masturbating to boy band videos. She dislikes everyone she works with, harshly judges every individual she comes across, and has the emotions of a schizophrenic serial killer. She’s a self-centered nymphomaniac; a soulless sexual predator; a cheating, manipulative, libidinous monster. She’s also very interesting, sharp, prone to witty observations, undeniably sexy, and drives a red Corvette.

Oh, and while covering a dead body she has briefly considered stealing money from, she thinks things like this:

“There was something charming about the fact that Buck’s funeral shroud was a blanket covered with several months’ worth of commingled seminal and vaginal fluids from his son and me.”

The second reason why you should read Tampa is the writing itself. Nutting’s prose is sharp and given to short bursts of dark brilliance that go from shocking to humorous, and are often both at once. The novel is wicked and dripping with bodily fluids, but the fact that’s it’s also impeccably written lets you know the author is as aware of what she’s doing, as Celeste is aware of the effect her cleavage has on hormonal teenagers. It takes a talented author to write about statutory rape and almost make it seem like a joke, a victim-less good time. If she’d written about eight-year olds, the story would be different and infinitely more appalling. However, by wisely choosing to dance around in that grey area where any heterosexual man knows he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to sleep with an attractive young teacher, Nutting gets away with it.

Tampa is a satirical, noir-esque, and deliciously pornographic study of desire and ethics, and the only controversial thing about it should be the fact that this kind of literature is hard to find.

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Gabino Iglesias is writer, journalist, and book reviewer living in Austin, TX. He’s the author of Gutmouth and a few other things no one will ever read. You can find him on Twitter at @Gabino_Iglesias.