Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Duende by E.E. Ottoman

Title: Duende
Author: E.E. Ottoman
Purchase at Less Than Three Press
Purchase at All Romance eBooks
Cover Artist: Aisha Akeju
Genre: fantasy
Length: 15k words
Formats: epub, mobi, pdf


Famed opera singer Aimé has a lot in common with Badri, the Royal Ballet Company's most popular male lead. They have both dedicated their entire lives to their art, and struggle to be taken seriously among the Empire's elite. And both harbor a secret admiration and desire for the other.

This year for his birthday Aimé treats himself to a night at the ballet seeing Badri perform, and after the show decides to meet Badri and confess his admiration for Badri's skill. But when that first awkward meeting turns to more, they are left wondering if there is room in their lives for both career and romance...

~*~*~*~*

Remember three-act structure? You won’t find it here. Here’s a beginning, which has some interesting elements. And an end. Foomp. No middle.


We’re given a fair amount of setup, in a world that feels pre-revolutionary France with British Empire elements. Engineering is coming along, assisted by magic, an idea that applies in practical terms to stage lights and nothing else that we see. Unless you count the mechanical sex toy, which has the element of novelty. Otherwise, it’s nobility has the money and the pull, and everyone else bows and says yes, sir or yes ma’am, because gender equality is a given, gayness isn’t an issue, and nasty remarks about a *trans person are a call for a public dressing down. Skin color is still a societal issue in places.

Aimé and Badri are noted performers, but their professions matter little aside from some set up. Aimé is a castrato opera singer, Badri a primo ballet dancer, and aside from an early performance which only serves to bring the two together, it really doesn’t matter. Badri’s dancing serves only to attract Aimé’s attention.

Aimé’s testicularly challenged state is something he consented to, as much as a child could be said to consent, and left him with the clear high voice that makes him a star, something we’re told repeatedly but never shown: his performing has no stage time in the story. We have no idea if he sings male or female roles, breeches roles, or roles where nothing matters except the ability to hit high F#. Aimé’s body issues and physical differences are handled head on: he doesn’t flinch when exposing himself to physically exquisite Badri. The author has an optimistic view of a castrato’s sexual function.

There really isn’t anything to pass for plot here: the MC’s meet, decide they’d like to get in one another’s pants, have a couple of dates that show more good time than anything else, break a few because of performing commitments, no big, and—HEA. How nice for them, but I was expecting something to be done with the interesting world, the vivid secondary characters, the MCs’ careers in the arts, some collaboration, anything. One unusual sex scene and more setup that goes nowhere in particular is about all we get. When added to the no-contractions, rather stilted dialog, repetitions of information that don’t illustrate anything, and a foray into a third party’s head for no discernible reason, the style doesn’t make up for the absence of plot arc. It’s all buildup and no events or resolution.

I really wanted all this set-up to dump me into an adventure that could only be had in this world, with these two men. The inconsequential juggling of performances and rehearsals plus tiny twitches of class awareness weren’t a good substitute. 2.5 marbles

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Coming this week

It has been a problematic week here at the Bookshelf. My tech consultant has dissolved in tears after attempting to redirect the site to a custom domain, and the picture above is an amazingly accurate rendering of the reinforcements she called in. (Sorry, Andy. We owe you many, many gallons of good beer.)  Steve Wozniak advised us to never trust a computer we couldn't throw out a window, and the domain registrar should be very very glad their servers are far from my windows.

So,many things did not happen, although we did have a surprise scene from EM Lynley's Spaghetti Western, which is now at the top of my TBR list in a font size I can read. PDFs don't play nice on Kindle. That's coming up for the next week, along with a post and excerpt from Eden Winters' rock star/opera singer book, A Matter of When. Great read, 5 marbles! 

The review I expected to post on Keira Andrew's A Forbidden Rumspringa will be up next week, because I promised Marlene at Reading Reality the chance to post it first.

We'll also see Duende from E.E. Ottoman, and as ever, hot guys doing something that needs explaining. P.D. Singer has a ficlet about an earlier picture, so stick with us!

Keep reading.




Thursday, September 25, 2014

A picture is worth...

Hey cowboy, how hot is that branding iron? If anyone has a suggestion about what this handsome fella's doing, or who he's looking at, tell us. 100-1000 words, hmm?

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

The Picnic: an exclusive scene and a giveaway from Spaghetti Western, from EM Lynley

EM Lynley's come by with some goodies from her new book, Spaghetti Western. Something mouthwatering to read, and a giveaway at the end, like a bit of chocolate for a dessert. Mmm, take it away, EM!

~*~*~~*~*

Sometimes there just isn’t a way to include all the scenes I have in my head when I’m writing. The idea for this sexy picnic was on my list, but the timing of it didn’t work very well to include it. So I’m sharing it now as a special treat for Cryselle’s readers and I hope you enjoy it. If you haven’t read the book, there aren’t any spoilers, but it will give you some idea how much fun Colby and Riley are together.

Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~

Riley had his back to the door when Colby entered the kitchen.

Katrina, Chuck and Willa were nowhere to be seen. It was awfully quiet in the kitchen, even for the lull between breakfast and lunch.

“Did your elves run away or something?” Colby asked.

Riley’s shoulders rose and he swung around. “Hey, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“At least I’ve got your all to myself for a few minutes.” Colby covered the ten feet between them in a second and had Riley wrapped in his arms. Riley relaxed into the embrace and let Colby back him against the counter and kiss him until Colby either had to get their clothes off or back away.

He reluctantly chose the latter. He smoothed the bulge in his jeans and thought how unfair it was Riley wore an apron that hid his arousal.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Colby.” Riley hopped up onto the counter and hooked a finger in Colby’s shirt collar to pull him back in, then trapped him by wrapping his legs around Colby’s waist.

“I like how it starts.”


“This isn’t the surprise, but you can start thanking me now.” Riley put a hand behind Colby’s head and pulled him close for another mind-blowing kiss. Riley’s tongue knew where to stroke and caress and Colby was jelly—except for his dick—in about ten seconds. Then Riley slid his hand along Colby’s chest, firm against his abs and pecs and across one sensitive nipple and Colby couldn’t help letting out a little yelp.

“Mmmm. You’re gonna kill me or we’re gonna be embarrassed when your staff come back.”

“They won’t be back for a while. They’re in charge of lunch today, so I let them go early after breakfast.”

“So you’re free for lunch?” Colby started to get the picture. “I’m off the rest of the day. So maybe we could…..”

“I already planned lunch for us. Got a picnic just about ready to go.”

“Picnic?”

“Yup. All you have to do is eat. Well, almost.”

“I like the idea of ‘almost.’” He hoped the non-eating part involved them getting out of their clothes. It was suddenly pretty hot in the kitchen. Hotter than usual.


Twenty minutes later Riley and Colby were in the barn. Tommo was saddling Rosewood, a pretty bay mare and Colby’s mare Twenty-four was also ready to go. Tommo looked up when Riley approached.

“Thanks, Tommo.”

Tommo tipped his hat to Riley, then grinned at Colby. “You two have a nice picnic.”

Colby’s mouth nearly dropped open at the way Tommo emphasized the world “picnic.” He turned to Riley. “You’ve got Tommo helping you too, today?”

“Everyone seems awfully helpful in getting you away from the barn and office. I wonder why?” Riley touched a finger to his chin and glanced toward the ceiling. He looked adorable.

“So where’s the picnic basket?” Colby glanced around and didn’t see it.

“Out at the picnic spot. We just have to get there.”

Colby checked Rosewood’s girth and give Riley a leg up, then he checked his own mare’s tack and sprang into the saddle. “Now what?”

“Follow me.” Riley moved Rosewood toward the entrance and Colby followed.

Riley didn’t know his way around the ranch very well yet, but he certainly had something planned. If they happened to get lost, Colby wouldn’t particularly mind. He just hoped the picnic wasn’t too far. As much as he wanted a taste of Riley, he was almost as eager for whatever Riley had cooked up.

They hadn’t been on the trail ten minutes when Colby guessed their destination. “Hey, are we—” He stopped himself. Why ruin Riley’s surprise?

Half an hour later they arrived at the top of the plateau overlooking the plains between the ranch and the Rockies in the distance. With an almost cloudless sky and a slight breeze to offset the heat, it was a perfect view and a perfect day.

Riley stopped and dismounted. “Need some help?” he asked Colby.

“I can manage, thanks.” Colby slid off Twenty-four and secured her and Rosewood to the nearest tree, where a plastic water trough had already been filled. “Looks like you’ve thought of everything. Except food.”

“You’re awfully impatient.”

“I told you, I’m starving.” Colby slid an army around Riley’s waist and the walked the last twenty meters. “Oh, wow.” Colby stopped when he got to the top of the trail. Picnic blankets and cushions had been laid out and a big red-and-white cooler sat nearby. “You have thought of everything!”

“Come and have a seat.”

Colby sat on a cushion, and Riley pulled his boots off. Colby felt a little like he’d arrived at a Middle Eastern restaurant. Riley knelt next to him and served him some cool, crisp white wine. They raised their glasses in a toast and enjoyed a few sips.

“One last thing I need to do.” Riley pulled something out of the cooler. “Close your eyes.”

This was starting to be fun. Usually Colby hated surprises, but Riley had changed all that. Then he felt Riley move behind him and pull something across his eyes. He opened them and discovered he’d been blindfolded.

“Hey, I didn’t sign up for this!”


“You want to eat, don’t you?” Riley’s tone was playful.
“Yes, but how can I eat if I can’t see anything?”

Riley didn’t respond.

Colby heard the cooler open and shut and smelled a mix of tantalizing aromas he couldn’t name. He could take a hint.

“Ready for the first course?”

Colby raised his hands to the fabric across his eyes, but Riley stopped him.

“No peeking. Today’s lunch is a test. If you can name three things, you get a prize.”

“What’s the prize?”

“Choose your own prize. Anything you want, but you have to collect before we go back.”

Colby chuckled. It didn’t take much imagination as to what the possibilities might entail. But he liked the idea. “I’ll play. How many things?”

“Four.”

“So I can only get one wrong?”

“You’re good at kissing and math.”

“Speaking of kissing…. Can I get a little reward now?”

“Sure.” Riley’s weight settled onto Colby’s lap, legs straddling him. The Riley’s warm lips were pressed against Colby’s. He tasted like the wine, a delicious combination.

Colby didn’t want to stop, so he took his time, enjoy a slow, deep kiss until his stomach rumbled.

Riley pulled off. “That’s enough for now. Now, tell me what this is.” Colby opened his mouth and Riley pushed in a small piece of fruit. It was cool and sweet. It tasted familiar, but he wasn’t sure. He chewed and swallowed. Riley fed him more and from the sounds, Riley was also eating. In between bites he leaned close for another kiss.

Colby wasn’t even paying attention to the food. With Riley still in his lap, close enough to feel the heat from his body and all the kissing, Colby was already hard. He was enjoying this a hell of a lot.

“Want more?”

“Food or kisses?”

“Food. And you have to guess what it is before the next course.”

Colby had a couple more bites. “Melon?”

“What kind?”

“Shit, Riley. How hard is this going to be?”

“Looks pretty hard already.” Riley slid his hand across Colby’s crotch and Colby let out a little gasp.

“Okay, what color melon do you think it is?”

“Red? Watermelon?”

“Ding-ding-ding. Right. Well, good enough. There were three kinds of melon and one was watermelon. With a drizzle of honey and mint. You want more?”

“Next course?”

“Fine.” Riley got up and made more noise in the cooler, then sat back on Colby’s lap. He kissed Colby’s chin and throat and unbuttoned his shirt then sprinkled some more kisses down Colby’s chest.

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“Not particularly. Just enjoying myself. Open up.”

As with the fruit, Riley interspersed kisses between bites and when Colby put an arm around Riley his fingers found warm, smooth skin of Riley’s back. This was really getting interesting. When Colby was told to guess he had to concentrate real hard. He was a little out of breath from the kisses and knowing Riley was undressing himself.

“Something with chicken. Cheese, salsa? I know I’ve had that before.”

“Good job. Chicken with salsa verde.” This time the reward was Riley taking Colby’s shirt off and rolling him down onto the blanket where they lay together kissing for a while. Then Riley unbuckled Colby’s belt and unfastened his jeans. He sucked on Colby’s nipples until Colby couldn’t breathe. When Riley pressed his face against Colby’s cock he thought he’d shoot his load right there.

“Hang on, there. Slow down, down there. Let’s get to the next course. So I can get my prize.”

The next food was dessert. Ice cream or gelato or sorbet. Colby didn’t know what the difference was. It was delicious, just like everything else.

“Mocha or chocolate ice cream?”

Riley made a sound like a buzzer. “Sorry, folks, that is not correct. Taste it again.”

“I give up.”

“It’s hazelnut sorbet.”

“It was yummy. Okay, so I have to get the next one right or I lose?”

“Yup.” Riley got up and moved around some more. “Now hold your hands behind your back.”

“Why?”

“Because…well, because I said so. Once you taste it, you’ll understand.”

Colby’s brain imagined all sorts of scenarios.

“This time just lick, don’t bite.”

Colby tentatively put his tongue out and felt warm flesh. It was Riley. “Mmmm. You.”

“Yes, of course it’s me. But what part of me?” Riley was laughing now.

“Seriously?”

“Yes. And if you get this wrong you don’t get the big prize.”

“Don’t put any pressure on me.”

“Guess.”

Colby tried to figure out where Riley’s voice was coming from to get an idea what part of his body he’d just licked. It couldn’t be his dick, that much was clear. It would be have been too easy. It wasn’t a nipple or anything on his face. He licked again.

Smooth. He didn’t feel any hair so that narrowed it down. Another lick. There were some curves and the skin tasted a little salty. He didn’t want to get this wrong!

“Your back or shoulder?”

“Choose one.”

“Damn, you’re a nitpicker.” Colby licked one last time. “Shoulder.”

“Ding-ding-ding! We’ve got a winner.”

Colby let out a whoop and tried take off the bandanna.

“Not yet. Anyway, that was my shoulder blade, so back or shoulder were both correct.”

“Bastard.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah, I do. Now for my prize?”

“What would you like?” Riley settled back into Colby’s lap and this time he was completely naked. He didn’t stop Colby from touching him or pulling him in for a kiss.

“I’d like to get out of the rest of my clothes.”

Riley helped Colby stand and took his pants and shorts off, then Colby felt Riley’s mouth close over his cock. “Hey, I didn’t decide yet.”

“I’m cheating a little. I’ve been wanting to do this since we got here.”

“I’ve been wanting you to do that since long before we got here.”

“So you want a blow job?”

Colby played with Riley’s hair as Riley licked and sucked him gently. It felt amazing with the blindfold on. “Well, since you’re already naked too. Maybe we could take dvantage of that. I’d like to fuck you out here in the middle of the day. We’ve never done that before.”

“Why haven’t we done that before?”

“Good question.”

Riley stood up and kissed Colby. “Let me just get ready.”

“I’ll do it.”
 
“No because you’re not allowed to take the bandanna off yet.”

Colby grinned. He listened to Riley squeezing lube into his hand and the squishy noises as he must have been pushing fingers into himself. He wanted to watch, but it was fun imagining the sight too.

“I can see you’re enjoying this already,” Riley said.

Colby’s cock was rock hard. He heard a condom wrapper ripping and Riley rolled it onto him and added more lube. “How are we gonna do this?”

“I’m on my hands and knees, just come up behind me. I’ll let you use your hands now and I’ll guide you.”

Colby got to his knees and felt Riley’s ass in front of him. He moved closer and using his hands he managed to get his dick to Riley’s hole. “I think this is gonna work.” He pushed inside and it was like nothing he’d ever felt. No matter how many times he’d be inside Riley, entering him without any visual clues was incredible. Even making love in the dark was completely different.

Here, in the open air, with the sound of the horses and the scent of trees and grass and lunch and Riley’s skin. Colby had to hold on to Riley’s hips tightly because his balance was off without visual clues. But he thrust in and out and heard Riley’s moans and gasps more distintitcly than any other time they’d been together.

With the sensations so much more intense, Colby couldn’t last as long as usual and he didn’t try. But before he came he reached down to get Riley off, then let himself ride over the edge of orgasm.

Afterwards, Colby lay on his back, still blindfolded and kissed Riley for a long time, relaxing with the sun’s rays playing over his naked skin.

Then Riley pulled the bandanna off. Colby blinked in the bright sunshine. Riley looked so beautiful lying on the blankets smiling up at him.

“That was the best picnic ever. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. And you should thank me.” He winked.

“Why do you say that?”
 
“Because you didn’t get three out of four correct.”

“I didn’t? Why’d you say I did?”

“If I hadn’t let you cheat it wouldn’t have been as much fun.

“What did I get wrong?”

“It doesn’t matter. In my book you got a perfect score.”

“Mmm. I love you.”

“I know.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I know"?  "I know"!! Well, I don't know and now I need to know the rest, so good thing this is on my Kindle at the top of the TBR list. Review to follow. ;)



Spaghetti Western
A Novel in the Delectable Series

Cordon Bleu-trained chef Riley Emerson arrives in Aspen, Colorado for a summer at the best restaurant in town, only to discover his jerk of a boyfriend has dumped him, leaving his heart and his plans in tatters. Doubting himself and longing for a change of pace, he takes a low-paying position at the Rocking Z guest ranch, though he expects nature up close and personal won’t hold a candle to his exciting Paris lifestyle.

When born-and-bred cattle rancher Colby Zane spots a newcomer being pawed at by a passel of horny cowboys at Aspen’s Club Rawhide, he rushes in, throws the guy over his shoulder, and rescues him. Sober, Riley Emerson is sweet and sexy, but not interested in more than a one-night stand. Still, Colby’s over the moon when Riley later arrives as the new cook on his family’s ranch.

But all’s not well at the Rocking Z. Unsurmountable financial problems force them to seek a cash infusion from outside investor Fitz Wellington. Fitz is hot for Colby, and he won’t sign on the dotted line without some very personal incentives. The future of the ranch is at stake, and Colby’s just that desperate, but saving the Z might mean losing Riley.

Buy Links
a Rafflecopter giveaway


Monday, September 22, 2014

Policy change


Because the publishing landscape has changed, my reviewing policies have also changed. I’m getting more requests from all quarters, and my available time is shrinking. I still want to be very supportive of authors, but that support may not come in the form of a review. All authors are welcome to play Thousand Word Thursday. We've had readers so inspired by a pic they've become writers. I post those too.

Before, if an author asked for a review and I couldn’t in good conscience give it a three or better, I’d consult before posting, unless it’s a self-pubbed author who’s acting as publisher, because the rules for publisher-requested reviews were different. There are more and more self-pubbed authors, with different degrees of professionalism, and there aren’t any more hours in my day, there’s less. Who publishes is not now and has never been a criterion for what I read, only for choices on posting.

That’s too complicated. Time for new, simpler rules.

Triage on low reviews is mine.

Every novel I read and review is 5 or so hours, sometimes more. Those hours can’t be replaced. A review is actually a pretty big commitment. If I spend the time to read to the end and write down my opinions, that’s a piece of my life.

So I may DNF. If a book quietly disappears from the coming soon carousel, that’s why. If it’s something I’m truly not interested in, it won’t make it to the carousel. I’m not good at DNFing, if I start, I usually finish, it bothers me to leave something in the middle. I may or may not write a DNF review, that depends on the specific book. If I write down a review, I’ll post it. You’ll get feedback and exposure, but no puff. If I love it, you’ll know why, and if I don’t, you’ll also know why.

The occasional blog tour comes through here, in which case a low review, should it happen, will be delayed as a courtesy. Blog tour book reviews still need 5 hours.

Here’s the part that hasn’t changed—

A story that pleases me will have a couple of well developed characters, a relationship, and something plotwise outside the relationship. I like plot, that's the point of a book. I like sex, too, but sex has to drive the plot. The daily drivel of the characters' lives in between sex scenes is not plot -- plot has conflict and resolution, and it needs to make sense. Logic fail will get noticed out loud and if I can't find the plot beyond "hawt guys fuck" you can call me Cryssy Crankypants.

Things that stop me in my tracks:
• Rape, unless it's a past trauma and offstage. Especially no "rape him til he likes it."
• Incest, especially twincest. A survivor is fine, but current relationship -- NO
• Non-con -- don't kid yourself, the right name is rape.
• All the squicky stuff that epublishers put in their 'don't submit to us' list
• Most BDSM. Personal preference, no apologies. Please don't offer it. Absolutely no pain play, blood play, flogging, bondage, humiliation, gagging, CBT. If it requires implements, I don't want to read it.
• Het.

Iffy stuff:

• Dub-con. We might not agree about where the line is. I'm likely to be more restrictive in my definition than you are.

• Soul mates -- this one hits the gag reflex, no matter what the writing looks like, 99 times out of a hundred, and the hundredth one is probably involving a non-human. A deep bonding after personalities get explored is fine, just no "only one personnnnnn in the universssssse for meeeeeeeee!"
• BDSM of the non-implement variety. Psychological aspects might be okay, but know you're taking a risk.


*****************************************
There have been exceptions, but I choose them.
 
This may end up looking like grade inflation, I don’t know. I’ll take another look in six months. What it looks like to me right now is the buffet rules I worked with at Jessewave's or Dark Divas: I touch it, I take it, I review it.

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Coming this week

OMG, my Thursday picture didn't post. That poor guy's been sitting there on the server, with his heart going... well, you tell us how's it going, and why. It might be his fault. Or not. 100 to 1000 words to explain please!

So, for last week, besides our missing prompt pic (sigh) we had reviews for Icebound by Corinna Rogers, a new to me author, and for A Matter of When by Eden Winters, who's one of my favorites. I seem to be reading a lot of rock stars lately, and they're all different.

This coming week, I'm reviewing A Forbidden Rumspringa by Keira Andrews, and Spaghetti Western from EM Lynley. And P.D. Singer has a little something to go with a picture I posted a couple weeks back, so keep an eye out for that!

And I promise, Thursday eyecandy with a story.

Keep reading.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

A Matter of When by Eden Winters

Title: A Matter of When
Author: Eden Winters
Purchase at Dreamspinner
Purchase at All Romance eBooks
Cover Artist: Reece Dante
Genre: contemporary
Length: 236 pages
Formats: epub, mobi, pdf, print

Wealth. Fame. Gold record. Hookers and Cocaine front man Henri Lafontaine has it all… including a control freak manager, band members who smile as they sharpen blades for his back, and last but damn well not least, a fan out to steal his heart. Literally. Trying to write hit songs and plan a comeback in the midst of the hi-fi white noise of LA feels more like watching his world implode, until he’s offered a month in the Colorado Rockies for vocal coaching.

Sebastian Unger’s rich, classically trained tenor inspires wicked thoughts. More than a pretty choir boy, he cracks the whip without hesitation to drive tattooed bad-boy Henri to give his all to his music. Working, fighting, and finally establishing a fragile peace, they find inspiration and perhaps more in each other. But the clock is ticking. Time will pull Henri back to the grit and gold of LA’s mean streets and fame machine, while Sebastian must return to the opera circuit, where a mysterious man known as “the patron” holds far too much sway. Only the trust they've built on a handful of notes bridges their two worlds... and shields them from malice.

~*~*~*~*

Rock and opera aren’t musical forms that obviously go together in anyone’s hands but Eden Winters. Henri and Sebastian have a lot of the same obstacles to overcome, in their own separate ways. Not only that, but Seb can teach Henri how to sustain a note longer than 3 seconds without passing out.


This story is certainly a romance, but as important as the relationship is, so is the theme of independence. These two guys have to find their backbones and get out of abusive relationships, both professional and personal. We’re in Henri’s POV for the entire book, which is actually kind of a relief, because Seb has the more gruesome situation, and the author lets us fill in a lot of our own blanks. What I can imagine from the few bald statements is quite awful enough. Henri wants desperately to help Seb along, and Seb’s got to find his own strength before he feels worthy of Henri’s attentions. Henri has his own battles to fight, but he needs Seb’s support on some important healing. What these guys accomplish on their own is as important as what they accomplish together, but neither one could accomplish as much without the other.

Of course, there’s serious heat between these two guys, more than enough to bridge the gulf between their backgrounds and styles.

In trademark style, Eden Winters has swirling issues in the background, well drawn secondary characters (I wanna hear Tessa play the bowls, or the Chinese takeout, or both!) and a sense of place that leaps off the page. Part of this story is set local for me, and I giggled with recognition when Seb drives Henri down what could only be that steep section of I-70 between Genesee and Golden. The heat of the stage lights and the breathless anticipation of the audiences are sharp and clear. Both the adoration and the menace from the singers' audiences come through in terrifying ways.

I suppose no rock star book would be complete without the MC’s singing to each other on stage, but here it’s not the revelation of feelings, it’s more the demonstration of what they can accomplish artistically together. Other sections of Henri’s music appear, apparently Eden Winters has a secret career in rock and roll, because those grim lyrics demand a driving bass line and a gravel voice to pound them out.

If there’s any quibble, it’s that the music industry seems to be working on the model of 20 years ago when iTunes didn’t sell single tracks, but who cares, because both Henri and Sebastian have to remake themselves, for themselves, and to be together. That togetherness gives the lie to opera is stuffy, because Seb and his golden voice blend so wonderfully with Henri and his rock lyrics, and because the two of them are so perfect for each other. 5 marbles

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Icebound by Corinna Rogers

Title: Icebound
Author: Corinna Rogers
Purchase at Amazon
Purchase at All Romance eBooks
     Preorder until September 25, 2014
Cover Artist: Unknown
Genre: fantasy
Length: 45k words (est), 156 pages
Formats: epub, mobi

It's been ten years since Shane Conell sold his soul to the Ice King in order to save the life of the man he loves. Correction, loved. After ten years, it's growing difficult to remember love, and hate, and laughter until a chance appears to get back the only thing his frozen heart still wants...

Drake Young is doing fine. Really. He's got a good job, nice benefits, and the soulless husk of his old lover only comes by to torment him every so often. However, it only takes the appearance of a creature from the Etherworld wreaking havoc on the decidedly nonmagical city streets to drag him out of retirement, forcing him to team up with the one person he can't bear even to look at!

Now, Drake and Shane must race against the clock to keep their city from being destroyed, even if it means working together. And no matter how difficult it is to catch the creature, it's a hell of a lot more difficult to resist the urges that ten years haven't managed to kill.

~*~*~*~*

There is a romance arc in here, layered in the rough language, the rough interactions, and desperate situations. The level of violence makes the book unsuitable for Dreamspinner or Loose Id, though the story flows.


We come in after boy has lost boy—Shane’s been soulless and hunting alone for a decade. He can’t stay away from Drake, though, and Drake dies a little inside every time they interact. Shane finds any number of ways to get under Drake’s skin, from the aggravating to the devastating, promising to apologize once he’s got his soul back—“it will mean something then.” Brought together by the one hunt Drake can’t pass by, they’re both tormented by what once was, and what they both hope will be again.

Set on a near-future Earth, magic and strange non-human creatures have come boiling into this plane so recently that Shane and Drake are first generation hunters. The culture hasn’t quite adapted to the new reality, although the Catholic Church does manage to put its hands on some interesting weapons. Where faith should be placed is a small undercurrent through the book. That souls exist and can be bartered is a given.

Time is a player here. The story is told in present tense, alternating third person, and there are flashbacks that reach farther and farther back in time to show us what these two are to each other, until we’re yanked into an unthinkable present. The story moves fast, with flashes of wit (Damn it, someone always turns into a fucking centaur...) and offers adventure, tortured hope, and danger until the final battle and after.

The author has a really vivid set-up and main characters, stakes of huge proportions, and a tale that pulls the reader along, which means the climactic scenes need to really pop. Unfortunately, what should have been a major impediment becomes a minor nuisance, and the author’s imagination gives out at the wrong moment, leaving us with a scene straight off the “don’t submit to us” lists at mm publishers. I skimmed it the first time through once I’d identified it, and came back after finishing the book to see if I’d missed anything of substance. I hadn’t, but things once seen cannot be unseen.

I would accept something even this revolting if it advanced the plot, but it doesn’t. It knocked me out of the story to the point of causing a DNF had I not been reading for review. The only typos in the book occur at the emotional climax—perhaps the proofers were as disturbed as I. What had been a 5 marble read lost the momentum. There are a few hints for a sequel, though this book is a complete story arc. I’m interested enough to read it. 3.75 marbles





Monday, September 15, 2014

What happens in Bali stays in books with Z. Allora

Thank you, Cryselle, for having me to your blog. I thought I’d do a little picture show since With Wings takes place mostly on the Indonesian island of Bali. I wanted to share some of my pictures.






I happened to go to Bali the same time my two main characters (Angel Luv & Darius Stone) visited. Bali can be upward of 98 degrees and extremely humid because it is right on the equator…. Which is why I have very few pictures of me in Bali 89% humidity doesn’t look good on me!


One of the things I noticed was there seemed to be two parts of Bali: the touristy part, Nusa Dua, which was clean and sanitized, and the other is where people lived, worked and writers are chased down alleyways of an artisan village by angry dogs (who luckily weren’t that fast and got bored easily).

Dare and Angel go to one of the temple dances in Ubud, which differ greatly from the temple celebrations in the big Western hotels in ‘tourist’ Bali, which lacked devotion. In Ubud, I witnessed about a hundred men varying in age from 8 to 90 stomp in making music with their mouths (pop pop click pop pop click) and with their feet. These men with a few instruments (drums and strings) accompanied the dancers as they retold an ancient story.


Near Ubud there are artisan villages specializing in: silver work, stone carving, woodcarving, and painting. By visiting the villages you can meet and deal directly with the artists so you can be assured everyone is getting a better price. This is picture is of my favorite mask maker in the woodcarving village. I purchased the three masks he’s posing with. He hand selects the wood, carves it, and has applied 300 coats of paint and glaze on each of them. The masks are made to actually be worn in the temple dances. When he put one on to demonstrate it came to life.



Barong is the keeper of order. Some of the temple dances include Barong winning a battle of wills over Rangda (pictured below), which represents chaos.



Bali is a magical and mystical place but well worth the journey.
***************


The lights go down and stage lights up. The Dark Angels have arrived. With his come-hither voice and body made for sin, lead singer Angel Luv draws lovers like a magnet. And when he caresses and taunts shy guitarist Darius Stone on stage, well…it’s an act, right? But every touch lights a fire, and every flirtatious glance chips away at Dare’s certainty that he’s straight. No one else has so captured his imagination.

Temptation beckons. It’s hard not to notice the want in Dare’s eyes, the way he stares when he thinks Angel’s not watching. One wrong move might scare him away, but a work trip to exotic Bali might be the perfect place to let Dare explore his sexuality, with none to be the wiser. But their “friends with benefits” pact has an expiration date, that just might sour their friendship.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1

The drunks in the hole-in-the wall bar were there to get laid, not to listen to Darius Stone play guitar with a gloried cover band. Fuck it, he didn’t care. He pretended his twist on another band’s musical hits was the reason a major fight hadn’t broken out in over a week and the police hadn’t intervened in over a month. It didn’t matter that the bar owner tried to cheat the band out of their take of the door. He was playing in New York City, and that helped block out the negative dialogue still powerful enough to slip around his wall of defense.

His father’s words nagged, questioning Dare’s sanity and his moral compass for following his rock and roll dreams. He’d heard the slurs and skewed stereotypes a thousand times, but each insult still stung. Musicians are nothing but a bunch of druggies and sex-depraved homos. If you’re going to play at being a musician, at least play a respectable instrument like the piano. You’re going to wind up in some alley OD’ed.

Not even the abusive words Darius carried in his heart could dissuade him from his love for the guitar. While his buddies had saved up to buy cars, he’d put his pennies away to buy a Fender American Standard Stratocaster electric guitar in ebony burst black. Every performance convinced Darius he’d made the right decision. The guitar was his first and only love.

When his eyes adjusted to the stage lights, he raised his head and was jolted by an instant connection. The guy from last night was back. Dressed in all black, he sat in the same seat, his amber eyes seeming to Dare’s fingers as they played each note. Guitar wails bridged the gap, joining them. He’d never felt so drawn to a fan, and remained captivated by the stranger throughout the entire set.

He closed his eyes and bent his fingers over the guitar’s strings, stroking out one last vibrato. Fuck, he was on fire tonight. The music injected a burst of love, mixed with lust, and the most incredible satisfaction imaginable, with an adrenalin chaser into his blood. All made better by the unique link he’d forged with the amber-eyed stranger. The connection nourished something in his soul. Nothing else came close to this kind of ecstasy—not even sex.

Fucking A, that was awesome. He opened his eyes, but now, with the music done, he avoided the stranger’s gaze and jumped off the tiny stage. It was weird to have been so deeply connected with a member of the audience. He hoped the guy didn’t get the wrong idea about him.

His gaze skated over to the guy in black, still there. He never socialized, and waved off anyone who approached. The guy’s focus remained on Darius, quite a feat since the outlandish lead singer, Paul Martin, usually demanded everyone’s attention. The shirt Paul had torn from his body, now in tatters littering the stage, was evidence that he’d do anything to get the audience’s love.

Darius hated most of the members of this lazy-assed band he’d fallen in with as a temporary replacement three years ago. On a daily basis he questioned why he’d agreed to play with a bunch of losers who thought the name “Doesn’t Matter” ironic.

But holy hell, he flew tonight. Until he found another band, he couldn’t walk away from this feeling. When it was good, there was no better high. He’d read somewhere that intermittent reinforcement was the strongest form—he’d have to agree.

He tipped his head so a lock of hair would hide his eyes while on stage fell forward. The same move worked offstage as well, allowing him to stare back at the man who appeared to be eye-fucking him.

The guy’s cool confidence could be experienced across the room. His black-polished nails ran through his hair, and he licked his full lips as if savoring something delicious. An odd sensation spread through Darius, but he refused to name it. If he were interested in guys, yeah, this would be the one for him. But Darius was straight.

As if on cue, Paige Rimsky, college student, fan, and his current fuck buddy, bounced over, reinforcing the simple fact of his heterosexuality. The celebration in her voice almost erased his unease. “I told you sitting in on the master’s class would up your game. Your phrasing was flawless tonight. I…”

She followed his line of sight. “Oh, were you showing off for tall, dark, and yummy?”

“What? No!” Maybe a little, no, the connection was just so... Why was the guy here again?

Paige put her hands up and laughed, drawing his attention. “Don’t get defensive, Dare. I’m just asking. Hell, I’d do him.”

Dare pushed his hair out of his eyes and focused on his maybe friend.

Her teasing smile turned into a dirty giggle. “I’d do you both.”

Fuck, rolling around in the sheets with the man in black and Paige wasn’t the image he needed in his head. He let his hair fall back to hide his eyes and fumbled with releasing his guitar strap. Since he’d forgotten to unplug the instrument before jumping off the stage, the wire tangled with his strap.

His sometimes bed partner snorted inelegantly, standing by waiting for him to de-wire himself. “So, who is Mr. Hotness Intensified? You think he’s as emo and sensitive as he appears?”

“No clue.” Best not to dwell on the answer to her questions, and he didn’t want to analyze why he’d love to know the guy. Untangled from the lead he’d failed to unplug earlier, he reached back to put his guitar on its stand.

“Well, he’s gorgeous. I’d fuck him.” Her voice was probably louder than she intended, and carried to their least favorite person.

Ace Starr, the asshole drummer of the band, came up and groped her. “You’d fuck anyone.”

“Anyone but you. Now take your goddamned hand off my ass or I’m going to put my fist in your fucking face.” She leaned into him and he winced.

Ouch! Damn, crunching the asshole’s foot with her heel must have hurt like hell. Paige had grown up in the foster care system and could take care of herself, but Dare was sorry she had to be on guard. If he jumped to her defense, though, she’d eviscerate him. All he could do was keep an eye out to make sure Ace and all the other assholes that crossed her path, in a bad way, were put in their places.

Ace released her ass and attempted an apologetic look. “Sorry, baby cakes. Hey, why don’t you come home with a real man tonight and not some demented elf?”

“Fuck off.” She wrapped an arm around Darius and continued to glare at numb nuts.

“Oh, honey, I would fuck you till the sun came up.” Ace used what he probably considered a sexy purr on her.

“Eww… Why would I want to do that?” Her beautiful face scrunched up, like screwing Ace was the worst possible fate.

Darius couldn’t hold in his laughter. Paige could be a real bitch when the situation called for it. Damn, he was just glad she liked him.

His gaze traveled back to the man in black. The stranger sipped a liquid with a crooked smile on his face. His expression sparkled with a little too much glee, making Darius wonder if the guy heard more than Paige’s outburst. Fuck. He didn’t need this right now.

Ace slunk away to search for a bed partner with lower standards than Paige’s. She nudged Darius. “So, my demented elf, you wanna get laid?”

Dare returned to the stage to buy time. When he twisted back around, the guy in black was gone, vanished. Fuck! Why did regret replace the nervous butterflies dancing in Dare’s belly? So what if he never got the chance to speak to the stranger?

Paige cleared her throat. She’d never had to ask twice. “So?”

No. Yes. No. “Not tonight.” He hated himself for putting a frown on her face.

“Got a headache?” She mocked him until she glanced over at the empty table. “Ah, say what you want, but I think you’re crushing on him.”

“I’m straight,” Dare protested.

“Whatever. Everyone is fluid. Some people just acknowledge it easier than others.” Spoken like a true pansexual, she was convinced everyone would be happier being gender blind and following attraction wherever it led. Paige taunted him, “Darius has a boy crush.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Get your copy of With Wings at Amazon.

About Z. Allora: Every one deserves a happy ending... (and I make sure they get one). I have written about hot rockers, sexy zombies, and Thailand club performers. My stories are about love, romance and are tied together with erotic sex. I utilize my time overseas and my travels to bring you to places you've yet to visit. I introduce you to cultures you've yet to explore. But with every word I write I hope to convey love is love. I look forward to hearing from you, my Pretties!

E-mail: Z.Allora@ yahoo.com

Facebook: Z Allora Allora

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks for telling us more about your books background! Reading With Wings was a great way to spend an evening. (See the review here.) Cryselle


Sunday, September 14, 2014

Coming this week

That look on our reader's face means "Where the hell is that excerpt about the hot rockers from Z. Allora?" Monday! I promise, it will be up Monday! Go back to reading your book for 24 hours, okay?

I did have the promised reviews on Just Playing from Ingela Bohm and the baseball anthology Playing Ball from Shae Connor, Marguerite Labbe, Kerry Freeman, and Kate McMurray. Please don't bean the blogger!

Coming up, besides that Monday post about Bali and hot men, will be reviews on Icebound from Corinna Rogers and A Matter of When by Eden Winters.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Playing Ball Anthology

Title: Playing Ball
Authors: Shae Connor, Kate McMurray, Kerry Freeman, Marguerite Labbe
Purchase at Dreamspinner
Purchase at All Romance eBooks
Cover Artist: Aaron Anderson
Genre: anthology, sports
Length: 270 pages, 92k words
Formats: epub, mobi, pdf, print

Baseball—America's favorite pastime—provides a field wide open for romance. A Home Field Advantage may not help when Toby must choose between the team he’s loved all his life and the man he could love for the rest of it. In 1927, Skip hides his sexuality to protect his career until he meets One Man to Remember. Ruben and Alan fell victim to a Wild Pitch, leaving them struggling with heartache and guilt, and now they've met again. And on One Last Road Trip, Jake retires and leaves baseball behind, hoping to reconnect with Mikko and get a second chance at love.

~*~*~*~*
All apologies to the authors and readers who love the game, but baseball is team golf. What happens around the game, now that’s interesting. Fortunately, we have four stories where play by play is sparse and story is abundant. Presenting the stories in the order they appear in the book, we have:

One Man to Remember by Kate McMurray

This story takes us back to the Roaring 20s, when Babe Ruth in all his magnificent excess ruled baseball and homosexuality was something to hide. The tone reminded me a lot of Damon Runyon, to the point where I had to check my perceptions in his short stories, which was a lot of fun.


The catcher from Podunk and the sportswriter with the fageleh reputation get together and fall in love, but they’ve been seen too often together. Skip is forced to choose between his game and livelihood and the man he’s falling for. We’re left at the cusp of “how will they make that work?” It’s charming and the sense of period never wavers. The story revolves around the choice to be made and not the practicalities or the joy of overcoming them, and the degree of play by play is greatest in this story. Skip's uneasy relationship with the written word seemed a bit tacked on, and while much was made of it, it didn't really seem connected to the story. Kudos, however, for making me look at Runyon again. 3.5 marbles

Home Field Advantage by Shae Connor

I was truly startled by the degree with which a real team, the Atlanta Braves, was worked into this story. An heir to the team, Toby, falls for one of the rookies, and has to work out how much he can allow himself, given Caleb’s need for acceptance and Toby’s hide-bound grandfather’s grip on the team Toby’s dedicated himself to. One of the dangers of the game precipitates a crisis for them. The story came out before Donald Sterling opened his big, ugly mouth, but there are echoes of situation. All Toby’s stomach churning worries come through in Technicolor, and his strength of character does too. His interaction with his grandfather was a wonderful moment. 4.25 marbles

One Last Road Trip by Kerry Freeman

Bisexual Jake, retired from baseball and on a mission to reconnect with a love from his past, has to run the gauntlet of the interstate highway system from coast to coast, strewn with the landmines of his ex-wife and grown children. Mikko, his long ago hidden lover, now recently widowed, is starting to date again. Jake hopes to rekindle something, anything, being lovers if Mikko will have him and friendship if he won’t. Mikko in the flashbacks was far more vivid than Mikko in present day. The greatest source of tension in this story is Jake’s reaction to his daughter liking hockey better than baseball.  3 marbles


Wild Pitch by Marguerite Labbe

By far the most complicated situation in the book, here Alan and Ruben are retired players with ex-wives and small children and a deep friendship with a smoldering attraction underneath. They’re also business partners, “uncle” to each other’s kids, and generally in each other’s lives so deeply that they might as well be lovers, and would be if Alan can wrap his head around it. We get to follow them through the unraveling of Alan’s feelings and acceptance of the gay component to his personality. There were a couple of really odd issues, such as the degree of media attention two broken down Little League coaches attracted, but there was also the sense that these men have real lives. We get to watch them resolve the disconnect between what they felt and did and what they said. 4 marbles

These four stories run novella length, longer than usual for an anthology, and tackle the sport from several different directions. While a baseball fan may be more connected to the stories than I, I still had a pleasant afternoon’s read, and would go another inning with any of these authors. 3.75 marbles for the collection.

Thursday, September 11, 2014

A picture is worth...



This picture reminided me of Spokes by P.D. Singer, which I recently read (again), reviewed (finally), and enjoyed greatly. What does it make you think of?

Tell us in 100 to 1000 words (drabbles are fine, really) and send your news along too. See How Thousand Word Thursday Works for details. 

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Playing Around by Ingela Bohm

Title: Just Playing
Author: Ingela Bohm
Purchase at Amazon  
Purchase at Barnes and Noble
Cover Artist:  unknown
Genre:  recent historical
Length: 98k, approximately 315 pages
Formats:  epub, mobi

Michael and Jamie seem fated to make music together. But the thrill of playing soon turns into something more, something neither of the young men can handle. Unable to just stay friends, their only option may be to avoid each other completely. But when things start moving for Jamie's band, a decision has to be made: either this is goodbye, or they risk everything and let Michael join.

~*~*~*~*

I both enjoyed this book and was irritated by it. Michael and Jamie come together as teens and explore their sexuality together while simultaneously trying to deny the hell out of it. It’s 1975, and gay as an idea hasn’t ever been part of their world until they find themselves touching and running, and touching again.

First off, the language is beautiful. It's textured and poetic, sometimes surprising.

However, all the gorgeous imagery and the lovely language are here in great oversupply. The book is huge and doesn’t resolve the couple—that’s for the second in the series, which I knew going in. The trouble is that the pacing of the story and the development of the characters is slow, slow, slow.

The story is not well anchored in time in the beginning. Hints of period show in the mention of Moody Blues songs as if they were new, but are contradicted by out of period slang, and it isn’t until 1975 is explicitly mentioned do we know for sure when we are. At that point it becomes easier to cope with the main characters’ denial of their sexuality, since circle jerks are “just what guys do” and gayness has nothing to do with them.

Close to 100,000 words doesn’t change this initial condition as much as I expected.

Jamie and Michael come together over a mutual interest in music, and from working together, they have opportunities to come closer. Michael has no self-confidence in his playing or his voice, and Jamie can prop him up only so far. When trouble between them has Michael backing away from his music in a very tangible way, the scene did make my heart hurt. When he’s sucked into the fledgling success of a band Jamie’s in, he still has no self confidence, and he never does get any. Nor does he have a lick of sense: if the band depends on him recovering his bass playing chops, you’d think he’d practice.

So, the external plot doesn’t advance, because they aren’t doing much to advance it.

The romance arc advances in spots, only to be dragged back, because these guys don’t talk. The excuse “It’s 1975” only flies so far when one character is drinking himself to extinction and they all act like David Bowie never existed. If Michael’s fey and beautiful, he’s in an era where flashy androgyny has precedent and makes bank. (Ziggy Stardust came out in 1972.) These guys don’t talk to the point where Jamie can write a love letter and then Michael reads it and completely disregards it, preferring to ache silently and moon over Jamie and worry that Jamie doesn’t reciprocate his feelings.

One scene I had real hopes for was the party scene: several things happened that showed promise for plot advancement, and then—gone. I actually snarled at my Kindle there.

The whole book is like this: something happens that should advance the romance or make the characters grow, and then nothing come of it. They have to fight for the same bit of advancement two and three times over, and the book is bloated for the repetition. Every single scene needs to do something to grow the characters or advance some part of the plot, and every scene is three steps forward and two and three quarters steps back. Sometimes three steps back. It’s extremely frustrating, because it is all written in language that flows beautifully. This disguises how little actually changes.

They do have sex, though, and promptly deny it, or ignore it or tell themselves comforting lies about it, and then do it again and deny it again. And again.

There is enough actual story in here to support about half the current word count. All the words are beautiful, but the substance of story is change and growth. 2.75 marbles


Monday, September 8, 2014

Coming this week


We had a great week last week! We reviewed Z Allora's With Wings and Parts 1 & 2 of Carolyne Chand's historical serial, The Knife of Narcissus. That made for an eclectic week, but launched me on a theme.

I sure didn't plan it, but I have another rock and roll mm book coming at you, this time Ingela Bohm's Just Playing. And because playing can be so many things, I also have an anthology of baseball stories, Playing Ball, with some familiar names: Shae Connor, Margaret Labbe, Kate McMurray, and Kerry Freeman.  And that's why I'm sending Mr. Tightypants out as the face of this post. We'll see what else I find for Thursday's picture worth a thousand words. ;)

And as an extra treat, we're getting a guest post from Z. Allora, who has some insights on the antics Dare and Angel got up to while they were in Bali. Fascinating! Plus an excerpt -- hot!

Saturday, September 6, 2014

With Wings (Dark Angels Book 1) by Z. Allora

Title: With Wings (The Dark Angels Book 1)
Author: Z. Allora
Purchase at Amazon
Cover Artist: P.L. Nunn
Genre: contemporary, rock and roll
Length:
Formats: epub, mobi, pdf

The lights go down and the stage lights up. The Dark Angels have arrived. With his come-hither voice and body made for sin, lead singer Angel Luv draws lovers like a magnet. And when he caresses and taunts shy guitarist Darius Stone on stage, well…it’s an act, right? But every touch lights a fire, and every flirtatious glance chips away at Dare’s certainty that he’s straight. No one else has so captured his imagination.

Temptation beckons. It’s hard not to notice the want in Dare’s eyes, the way he stares when he thinks Angel’s not watching. One wrong move might scare him away, but a work trip to exotic Bali might be the perfect place to let Dare explore his sexuality, with none to be the wiser. But their “friends with benefits” pact has an expiration date, that just might sour their friendship.


~*~*~*~*

This is the second edition of The Dark Angels: With Wings. No idea what the first edition looked like or if this is substantially different, but let me say this: Second Edition Rocks!

Here we have a yaoi-flavored out-for-you story, where Dare isn’t sure at first just what the draw is to this crazy guy who keeps showing up at his little tribute band’s gigs. Angel thinks Dare’s the best guitarist for the Dark Angels, and finds him pretty hot as well. Dare’s slow to warm up to the notion: he has a fair share of the attractive and limber female fans who throw keys, panties, and themselves at the band.


If you want to get all sniffy about ladybits, get over it. There are a couple brief but important to the story sections where a girl’s involved—gay and bi guys very often do have encounters with the opposite sex in RL and in stories too. Dare has to sort out his feelings toward Angel, and Angel’s giving more mixed signals than a drunk traffic cop.

There’s lots of hawtsex between the guys, but their real question is what else is there, and can they keep from wrecking the band while they figure it out. An extended song-writing vacation in Bali takes them away from the familiar things to let them bask in new and different surroundings, and new and different ways of being together. Going halfway around the world for a little solitude seems contrived, but hey,  yaoi.

Besides, the author clearly knows and loves that part of the world, and lets her characters explore and learn this exotic location while exploring the equally foreign landscapes of each other. It’s a great way to have them step away from all that’s familiar, and I challenge everyone to show me any other m/m romance that has a slow loris or even a fast loris in it.

Eventually—and oh I bit my fingernails while they were getting there—some heads get pulled out of asses and some truths shared, and the guys make some great music. Together. ;) The Dark Angels have some more stories coming, which is great, because I spotted some loose ends and I want an encore. 4.5 marbles





Thursday, September 4, 2014

A picture is worth...

This pic made me think of a book I recently read, reviewed and enjoyed. Double Up by Vanessa North. What does he make you think of?

If you have 100 to 1000 words for this or any other of my Thursday pics, send it along and I'll post it, and send your news along too. See How Thousand Word Thursday Works for details.