A Society Of Puritans

Posted on December 7, 2013 by Robert Downs

Wanted by J. Kenner
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

J. Kenner (aka Julie) has plenty of writing talent, and most of it probably goes unnoticed within the erotica genre. Before you paste a “kick me” sign on my back, and I run up and down the halls trying to figure out why feet are constantly being tossed in my direction and my ass is suddenly and inexplicably sore, just hear me out for a minute. While erotica has reached mainstream level (thanks Fifty Shades), I can’t help but feel it’s whispered about at parties in the dark, men may, or may not, be reading it, but most of whom certainly aren’t going to admit it, and if you sat on an airplane next to someone who was reading a book with a half-naked man or woman on the cover, who may, or may not, have her legs wrapped around the waist of some hunk of burnin’ love, you’d probably cringe and turn away, even if you had the same damn book at home on your shelf. That’s just the way it is. We’re a society of Puritans, while Europeans laugh at us from the other side of the ocean.

And so it goes for J. Kenner. She isn’t praised for her writing talents, even though they are displayed for the masses. But she’s probably not complaining, because the six figure advances show up like clockwork, her erotica trilogies are pushed out on a conveyor belt, and she’s smiling every time she cashes one of those paychecks. But the character development is there. Angelina Hayden Raine (aka Angie or Lina) has scars as long as a country mile to go with her body built for sin and an ass that keeps on giving. She’s tainted as all get out, but there’s still purity and innocence to her, and it creates layers people. Layers. Evan Black has abs that could bounce quarters and nickels and dimes all at the same time. But he’s not just some rich billionaire who is damaged goods, although he does have his own issues. Again, we have depth, and it makes for a more enjoyable ride in the saddle.

Sure, there’s sex, but it never feels overt or dirty or forced. These are just two people exploring the depths of their relationship, who just happen to fuck more than normal couples do. It’s natural damn it!

What I really liked about WANTED, and which made me want it even more, was that the story was self-contained. It doesn’t drag out or implode or create additional complications, just for the sake of conflict and complication (thanks again Fifty Shades). It doesn’t extend out to additional books, and there aren’t unexpected blips just so we can watch a man drink himself into a coma. When the curtain drops, it drops. And I’ll stand up and applaud.

While this is a trilogy, the second book HEATED revolves around Sloane Watson, an undercover cop posing as a stripper at Destiny, who may, or may not, grow rather attached to what Tyler Sharp has going on in his pants. It sounds like a winner. I just hope I can get a front row seat, because I’ve got my stack of ones ready.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Junk-In-The-Trunk

Posted on December 5, 2013 by Robert Downs

8135807-1 Rock Me by Cherrie Lynn
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

There’s a fine line between erotica and contemporary romance, as this novel aptly proves. I’d say ROCK ME more than dips its toes in the erotica universe, but Amazon classifies this as contemporary romance (and we all know Amazon is always right), so of course, I want to strive to prove them wrong. But we’ll get to that a bit later. First, let’s talk about this particular piece of ass.

The story revolves around Candace Andrews. Come on down. She’s as pure as the driven snow, blonde, with a little junk-in-the-trunk, and disciplinarian parents who focus on the Andrews name above the needs of their own daughter. Her lustful fantasy, on the other hand, has a temper, owns a tattoo parlor (gasp!), is covered in art and piercings, and he may, or may not, have an apadravya. Brian Ross, come on down.

More than just formulaic, this was a paint-by-the-numbers, stay inside the lines, and gosh, I sure didn’t see that ending coming. And, yes, this novel proves that I have nearly reached the end of my erotica purge, as it’s all looking a bit too familiar, and whiplash, déjà vu, and virginally pure blonde stalkers in red high heels await me at every corner wearing trench coats and not a whole lot else. It’s a rough life, but there’s only so much of this I can take before I burn out my retinas.

So you’d think I hated it right? And you’d be…wrong. Despite the formula, I really dug Candace, and couldn’t seem to get enough of her, even if she did frustrate, aggravate, and leave me begging for more. But that’s love, right?

Well, in erotica novels there’s always fucking, and to give you some idea, fuck and its various derivations are used no less than 98 times over the course of this novel. There’s also plenty of oral, a short-lived condom less encounter, and plenty of vanilla sex (by erotica standards). But we have to keep in mind the characters, and this felt dirty (like I needed a shower afterwards), and Amazon reviewers have used sexy, steamy, and hot to describe this read. Now, I don’t know about you, but that sounds like erotica to me. So suck it Amazon.

Tumultuous Relationship

Posted on December 4, 2013 by Robert Downs

18803450 Restless Spirit by Sommer Marsden
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

Tuesday Cane wasn’t my favorite day of the week, even though I ended up liking her all the same. Our relationship proved a bit tumultuous at times, as she bounced between men with a slap happy insistence that caused my head to jerk about as frequently as a male teenager with ADD. She dialed 3825 (to copulate) so often that she must have had it preprogrammed into her phone at the top of her speed dial. And there was so much fucking and yanging the wang I wouldn’t have been surprised if my pages weren’t somehow lubricated.

RESTLESS SPIRIT could have been the name of a horse, or it could have been a metaphor for the way I felt as I devoured this book, the pages filling my fantasies six ways from Sunday, the days of the week flying by in epic and unexpected passion. The bare sex scenes heightened my senses to the point that I felt a part of the action, peering out of the bedroom closet with one eye focused on the prize, and There’s Something About Mary doesn’t have anything on the sticky hair scene contained in this novel.

Shepard Moore proved every bit as strong as Tuesday Cane, but I found Adrian and Reed Green a bit lacking in the strong and silent type department. Tuesday, however, proved plenty restless, and worked her way up and down the small town. If she didn’t hold a certain appeal that I can’t quite describe, her finger hovering over the eject button might have shown me the error of my ways, or caused a sad shake of my head. But if it’s all the same to you, I’ll relish the wanton abandon contained within these pages, even as the ending was projected on my flat screen well before we reached the finish line.

All in all a fine read if you’re into that will she or won’t she sort of thing, but not one I’ll probably revisit anytime soon.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

One Wicked Lady

Posted on December 3, 2013 by Robert Downs

Control by Charlotte Stein
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

Don’t let the name Madison Monroe fool you. She’s one part Wicked Words bookstore owner, and nearly three parts badass. She’s into dominance, subservience, and just about anything in between. She has CONTROL issues and monogamy ones too, with a body built for sin, and an active imagination to boot. But if you can capture her attention, you may die butt naked with a smile on your face after emptying your spunk tank.

Putting theory into practice and with a file cabinet full of erotica tales, Madison’s one wicked lady, but neither of her male counterparts utter a single word of protest. In fact, once the action reached the bedroom, or the backroom, there were more than a few incoherent utterances, most of which would have been accentuated with exclamation points. And I couldn’t help doing the wave every time the sexual acrobatics stepped onto the printed page.

Sure, this novel was filthy and raunchy and messy and grubby, and I may have needed to spray myself down with a garden hose after finishing this tale, but that was why it had such a strong appeal. If you like it when the female cracks the whip and dominates you in ways you never thought possible, you might find yourself enjoying a wet dream or two at the end of this tale. Once the sex train ended, I wanted to hop right back on, and enjoy this fantasy ride all over again.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

Unkillable Charlie Hardie

Posted on December 3, 2013 by Robert Downs

9583670 Hell And Gone by Duane Swierczynski
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

I blame erotica. My natural response is to proceed with a whips and chains and between-the-pages sexual binge until this burning desire extricates itself from my system, and the world turns itself right-side up. What does that have to do with HELL AND GONE? Probably not a whole hell of a lot. But here we are you and I. With that being said, I cannot be held accountable for my actions during this review.

Fun And Games had Mann in all of her infinite glory, with her nipples sticking straight up in the air, sunbathing topless on a deck in the middle of LA. But Mann has been relegated to cameo status in the sequel, and I couldn’t help the heartfelt sigh that escaped my lips. Now we have Eve Bell who can maintain the lotus position for hours on end, and I’m intrigued all over again. Her shower scene certainly captured my attention. I’ll say it right now: I have no shame.

Unkillable Charlie Hardie once again was forced to question his very sanity, spending his days in an inescapable prison with a team of guards and prisoners that proved to be some of the baddest dudes and dudettes around. The adrenaline rush proceeded at an IV pace (my finger pushing the magic button every three minutes or so), and I couldn’t avoid the post-nasal drip, the chlorine beach, the white tile, the blue scrubs, or the shower curtain divider that separated me from the guy on the respirator.

The other characters, while interesting and intriguing, didn’t capture my attention the way the secondary cast of characters popped into my brain and executed the mambo in the first installment. The action scenes, while intense and electrified, held back a bit compared to the first go round and the insanity that is LA. But don’t get me wrong, this was one hell of a ride, and I’ll be seeking out the explosive finale with equal parts enthusiasm and trepidation. I may need to sleep with the lights on, and my head buried underneath the covers, but it’ll all be worth it in the end. That’s what I’ll keep telling myself anyway, repeating the mantra until it’s permanently etched in my brain.

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One Hot Mess

Posted on November 25, 2013 by Robert Downs

We Only Know So Much by Elizabeth Crane
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

One hot mess. That’s the first thought that comes to mind. The story was told out of sequence; the characters proved unlikeable and sometimes odious; the entire family managed to engage in conversations without ever really talking about anything meaningful; relationships died faster than a daisy in the middle of a blizzard; the voice was quirky, at times eccentric, and it filled me up with about as much hope as a five car pile-up. But I enjoyed the hell out of it anyway. I can’t adequately explain it, but it spoke to me like a ghost with two heads, or a blue lizard with his mouth open and eyes wide, telling me meaningful and profound thoughts with a slight upturn of his head.

I went into WE ONLY KNOW SO MUCH without any predispositions or inclinations, and I was glad I had my eyes open wide, and just went along for the ride. Because this story took me to some dark places, down some lonely roads, and I didn’t particularly like myself at all parts of this journey, but it was an exploratory endeavor that was as discombobulated and confusing and complicated as life itself. Had I not been a bit eccentric, I might have been less than thrilled with this ride, but I often look at myself (and I say this with complete sincerity) as one hot mess. So I connected with the material on a deep, meaningful level, even though it took me a while to reach the level of full emersion.

This novel breaks the major rule of writing: Show, don’t tell. Told from the perspective of an omniscient narrator, it single-handedly proves that with good writing there are no rules. Because I loved the fact that the narrator talks directly to the audience with a bit of dialogue, exposition, and backstory thrown in to move the story along. Even when it moves a bit tangentially (again, I’m often prone to making random connections in the universe), I was giddy with Elizabeth Crane’s storytelling ability. It was like snuggling up in a warm blanket, even if that blanket may turn around and occasionally bite you on the ass.

Before And After

Posted on November 23, 2013 by Robert Downs

Lie Still by Julia Heaberlin
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

When I finished LIE STILL, I realized how absolutely ignorant I was about rape and women and the lingering effects of the horrific ordeal that no amount of washing or scrubbing or therapy or counseling or friends and familial support can ever hope to take away. And that for the rest of Emily Page’s life she will remember vivid details of the assault and Pierce Martin like he was the grim reaper sent down just for her: the empty Domino’s pizza box, the cloying odor of his shampoo, her final thought before he entered her—that he’s not going to marry her—the fingernail that raked her leg and the scar it left behind, and the sting of the alcohol, as she attempted to clean up the last remnants of him. And that when he entered her a part of her soul tore away, and that now her life is divided into two periods: before and after.

Even though Pierce is an asshole, a controlling, abusive, manipulative, done-this-sort-of-thing-before asshole, who had planned the violation for weeks and probably fantasized about it for even longer than that, Emily still thinks the rape, in this case date rape, was her fault. Her humiliation and guilt clings to her like a virus. Even though it wasn’t her fault, she feels culpable in the horrific ordeal, flashing her virginity around like it somehow made her better. This novel refers to date rape as “the last frontier of crime,” because the victims look and feel guilty, while the rapist feels pleased because he painted the whole picture himself. I had no idea rape victims were viewed this way, and it saddens me deeply to realize this is the case. I only hope our society can somehow figure out a way to right this horrible wrong.

This novel shows Texas like it was truly meant to be shown with fake mansions the size of convention centers, where fake women and fake breasts and fake tans loom larger than the Georgia sun. Where a middle-aged former beauty queen packs pistols and assault rifles in the back of her Lexus and shoots out the zero of interstate signs at 65 MPH. Where the twists and turns prove more complicated than Texas’s geographical landscape and interstate highways and where high school never seems to end. And where Caroline Warwick has more secrets and more enemies than one would like to admit.

I’d like to end with the “legitimate rape” legacy left behind by a US representative that Julia Heaberlin brings up in her Author’s Note. She takes the higher ground by not mentioning this particular bastard by name, but I believe he should be called out once again for his comment. Representative Todd Akin said, “If it’s a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down.” That shows ignorance on so many levels, and it scares the shit out of me that he was actually running our country for six terms. Akin didn’t get reelected in 2012, and rightfully so.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

What Do You Mean You Used To Write Children’s Stories

Posted on November 21, 2013 by Robert Downs

Guest post provided by Elene Sallinger.

When people find out that I started my writing career in children’s literature, the reactions are varied but always funny. It’s a classic “what the f@#$” moment. Somehow, this transition just doesn’t seem to compute for most people. Granted, children’s lit and erotica are much further apart on the spectrum than say mysteries and romance, but they are both still part of the fiction genre. And, the theme of my erotica – people overcoming their baggage – is only marginally different from the theme of my children’s stories – overcoming fear and doubt.

I began writing children’s stories after my then four-year-old daughter repeatedly asked for the same bedtime story which I’d improvised one night. She didn’t want more or less the same story, she wanted the details to match. With my memory being as full of holes as Swiss cheese, I began to write them down and illustrate them for her.

When he discovered this, her father encouraged me to take some classes. After much stalling, I finally did and a writer was born. Because my daughter was so young, children’s lit was natural for me. I found myself writing the stories I wished I’d had as a child. Stories that promoted facing fear, self-acceptance and overcoming doubt. All concepts I’ve struggled with throughout my life.

As my daughter grew and Dora gave way to Xbox and Chicka Chicka Boom Boom was put away in favor of Artemis Fowl, I found I had no taste for writing for the young adult market. There were too many prolific authors already doing it better than I could.

Around this same time, I stumbled across my first tale of erotic fiction, Seducing Jane Porter by Dominique Adair. One taste and I was hooked. I devoured everything I could find. Sadly, I also found myself disappointed again and again by stories that lurched from one sex scene to another with no plot, no character development and laughable, unrealistic sex scenes.

I’d already picked clean the catalogs of my favorite authors and was frustrated with a lack of quality content. I wanted more and I didn’t want to sacrifice my reading standards. One night, after deleting a particularly bad story off my iPad, I decided to try and write a story that I would want to read. The rest, as they say, is history.

After getting some practice in with a few short stories, I submitted Awakening to Xcite Books’ contest for new writers at the 2011 Festival of Romance and won! I haven’t looked back since.

I love the erotic genre and nothing pleases me more than a good story where people explore their sexuality while overcoming the baggage we all carry at some level.

While, I may write other children’s stories – I’ve got one or two percolating – I’m officially hooked on erotica and plan to continue writing erotic romance for as long as I’ve got a story to tell.

Hailing from Washington, DC, Elene Sallinger first caught the writing bug in 2004 after writing and illustrating several stories for her then four-year-old daughter. Her writing career has encompassed two award-winning children’s stories, a stint as a consumer-education advocate, as well as writing her debut novel, Awakening—a novel of erotic fiction that won the New Writing Competition at the Festival of Romance 2011. Visit Elene online here.

Click here to read my Awakening review.

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Political Scandals Pale In Comparison

Posted on November 16, 2013 by Robert Downs

16158196 Really Dead by J.E. Forman
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

The movie industry is filled with sons-a-bitches. Whenever you mix a sense of entitlement, trunks filled with money, nubile young women willing to show their breasts on a whim, kinky old men, and drugs, you’re bound to experience plenty of problems. Political scandals pale in comparison to the seedy atmosphere underlying the entertainment industry where the grime and slime covered me faster than a coal mine.

While Ria Butler did hold a certain appeal, most of it was lost on me. REALLY DEAD managed to cut scenes too soon, the jumps proved more jarring than a wave smacking me in the face, and the story lacked the flow that would have kept me really engaged. The voice hurt my ears worse than nails on a chalkboard. The dialogue proved a bit cheesy, and a few of the characters a bit too dimwitted for me to truly sing their praises. Others proved to be royal asshats.

The mystery lacked a certain sophistication and complication that I would have otherwise preferred, with the subplots receiving more screen time than the main show. The ending wrapped a bit too quickly, and the villain needed to insert hand in mouth and bite down, instead of utilizing a megaphone.

However, I did enjoy the behind-the-scenes look at reality TV show production. I just wish the price of admission wouldn’t have been so steep, as the story and writing weighed me down and kept me submerged beneath the surface of the water. My boycott of all reality television shall continue unabated, so the book did have that going for it, even if I had trouble finding much else to enjoy.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

NaNoWriMo Saved Me

Posted on November 15, 2013 by Robert Downs

Vomiting up a novel in a month sounds like a terrible idea. But I’d have to say it might have singlehandedly saved me. I’d been struggling with writing, dancing around the subject, and editing my heart out, but it hadn’t led me anywhere. Instead of guiding me and giving me a purpose, I’d been stuck in neutral, spinning my tires, and peeling off the rubber at a rather rapid pace. I’d edited a couple of manuscripts before setting them aside, incomplete. It had been a battle, a constant struggle, and writing felt more like a chore than a pleasure.

To promote my debut novel, I’d been on blog tours, book signings, conducted giveaways, sought out top reviewers, had a book trailer produced on my behalf, built up a Facebook following, placed ads with AdWords, attended mystery conferences, and had a website built. But it all seemed for naught. For nearly a year, I went through one of the unhappiest periods of my life, not even knowing if I would have my second manuscript published, or my third, let alone have a career in writing. Editing fueled my disdain and frustration, and the battle waged on.

But rather than throw in the towel, walk away, and move on with my life, I decided to peel back the layers and rediscover why I truly loved writing. Rather than let the ashes suffocate me and bury me six feet under, I made a conscious effort to rise above all the heartache and pain and to break through the surface. And I found that purpose through NaNoWriMo.

Having what amounted to a complete and utter failure gave me the power to truly let go and not worry about what happened, and I rediscovered that no one had power over me unless I gave it to them. Instead of writing for an audience filled with expectations, I realized I didn’t need to worry about readers (since those were few and far between), and I didn’t have to worry about failure at all, because I’d already reached a failure of epic proportions. Anonymity gave me power.

And so I wrote and wrote, pounding away on the keyboard, as the pages filled out before my eyes. Emotion poured out of me, along with hopes and dreams. Instead of keeping all those pent-up emotions on the inside, I let them guide the pages in front of me, and the experience proved rather cathartic. Forcing myself to write 50,000 words in a month when I already had a serious amount of stress on my plate was probably one of the best decisions I’d ever made. Because now I had purpose and meaning in my writing life, both of which had been missing for some time. And getting up at 4:40 in the morning probably sounds insane, but days that begin with writing are better than days that do not. So now that it’s November, I couldn’t be happier, because once again I’ll test my creative limits and heave up another novel. Those 4:40 mornings sound nearly blissful, and the challenge of 50,000 words will guide me once again.