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.

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.

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named

Posted on November 13, 2013 by Robert Downs

The Cuckoo’s Calling by Robert Galbraith
My Rating: 2/5 Stars

This ain’t Harry Potter. For those of you who may have such expectations looming in the back of your mind, even as you recognize that J.K. Rowling wrote it under a pseudonym, and that it’s a mystery, and that it involves a war veteran PI, and that there are no wizards or classrooms or dragons or Quidditch matches or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…yeah, you have to set those expectations aside. Otherwise, your disappointment level will spike off the charts, and you’ll toss your Kindle or hardcover edition through an open window, never to be seen or heard from again.

Robert Galbraith certainly has chops in the mystery writing universe, even if his first effort falls a bit short. The stuttering formality turned me off from the beginning, and carried through all the way to the end, even if the stick might have been removed from the buttocks for brief periods of time, the majority of which revolved around enthusiastic sidekick Robin. Formal dialogue splattered with dashes filled the pages, and an overemphasis with the ellipsis further helped separate me from the tale, and was closely followed by characters who liked to overstate and expound upon points a little too forcefully, pounding the corpse repeatedly after the last breath had already expired from the body.

Other than Robin, formal, stilted characters seemed to plaster the pages, many of whom felt dry cleaned, instead of going through the normal rinse cycle. The plot plodded along at a slow, steady pace, and proved slow to develop despite the dashing dead body early on. The ending of THE CUCKOO’S CALLING would have been aided by the liberal use of the delete key, and like the rest of the tale, was a bit long on atmosphere and extraneous information. While the premise proved strong and inviting, the story didn’t quite live up to its enticing origins.

On a related note, it’s probably good my NetGalley request wasn’t approved for this novel, even though I could have blown the whistle on her pseudonym a full two months before the official slip. Mulholland Books is probably patting itself on the back, as they dodged that bullet and my less than favorable review, even if it was only a temporary respite.

Enthralled By The Eccentricities

Posted on November 11, 2013 by Robert Downs

White Fire by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child
My Rating: 4/5 Stars

Seeing Douglas Preston in person (twice) and Lincoln Child via Skype (once), I can’t help but be enthralled by the eccentricities of these two individuals, and the odd dynamic that must ensue from this powerful writing duo. So it’s hard not to see how Aloysius Pendergast might have developed from these two brilliant minds fully formed and ready for action. He’s odd and eccentric and intriguing and his dark suits never manage to get wrinkle, even when he’s bounding through snow drifts up to his chin or playing Russian roulette with a loaded revolver.

More than just Pendergast, though, WHITE FIRE filled its pages with entertaining characters and a few individuals from the days of yore. With Corrie Swanson leading the charge and immersing herself in skeletal remains and mining caves and mountain passes, this novel piles on roadblocks and adventures in equal measure, and then douses the remains in cans of kerosene. With stoic individuals stepping to the forefront and the interweaving of a story within a story, this novel moves forward as much as it lingers in antiquity. Arthur Conan Doyle and Oscar Wilde and Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson weave through the pages, leaving footprints in white blankets and half-eaten meals behind.

The rush of adrenaline helped me maneuver from the first page to the last, the throttle easing just enough to keep me from overexertion, the pages pounding with the precision of a jackhammer. The vibrations echoed through my hands and all the way up my forearms, as I drove my snowmobile through the ensuing avalanche. The tight plot fit about as well as a snug pair of gloves, and I leaned my back from the resultant wind current, my teeth chattering and my feet stamping in protest.

If you don’t mind Pendergast avoiding the spotlight as opposed to standing in the limelight, acting more as a mentor than the lead investigator, and you enjoy your plots more tightly woven than a pair of mittens, you’ll probably find yourself enjoying this Colorado tale.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.

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Fondling The Merchandise

Posted on November 6, 2013 by Robert Downs

17165966 Palace Of Spies by Sarah Zettel
My Rating: 3/5 Stars

Margaret “Peggy” Fitzroy led a reasonably charmed life until she was kicked out on her keister and forced to delve in the palace of intrigue, suspicion, and ne’er-do-wells, many of whom have buckets of money, or like to pretend that the dowry extends forever in one direction, even if it dried up about fifty years ago. Sebastian Sandford, relegated to a minor role, showed his hands and his petulant attitude and his preponderance for fondling the merchandise before the appointed hour, with nary a care in the world. And Uncle Pierpont showed fangs and horns and bastard tendencies with relative ease, tossing out his niece faster than a banana peel and slamming the door hard enough to rock the foundation. But had he shown more normal tendencies and familial congeniality, PALACE OF SPIES never would have reached the atmosphere, so we can thank him for his complete and utter ridiculousness.

Peggy had a slight aftertaste, not growing on me until a bit later in the tale, but when she did, I appreciated her and her firecracker ways. She had spunk and charm and held on to certain folks a bit too long and offered up some youthful naiveté in this historical tale. While some mysterious elements lingered, and a dead body or two appeared on scene, I’d say this was more historical with a bit of romance and some rather cryptic moments. The plot had a few dangling points and outliers that wrapped up a bit too nicely and maybe a bit too forcefully, and while research was conducted and historical accuracies appeared to be inflicted upon the story, this wasn’t a heavy read by any means. And it was easily consumable, like popcorn or Pez or candy corn.

What really popped my balloon faster than a safety pin, though, was the murderer spouting off for no other reason than pure ego. Really? While it was a bit briefer this go round than the previous iteration, it still left me with a dry mouth and a slight headache. Can we move past the egomaniacs and psychotic miscreants and move toward more common ground? I promise we’ll all be happier, and we don’t even have to hold hands.

I received this book for free through NetGalley.