Happy New Year!

Whew…it felt like this day was coming at me like a freight train, ready to run me over, but at the last minute I caught my stride and jumped for safety just in time. 2011 was a whirlwind of a year for me and now that I’ve had a few hours of clarity I can see it wasn’t as bad as I felt it was in the moment. I wait with baited breath to see what this new year will bring and can’t wait to bring all you lovely people along for the journey. I wish everyone health, happiness, and prosperity (how ever you define it).

Let’s do this!!!

Janet

Hello Beauties,

I made it through the first leg of the holiday season and am prepping for the next half as we speak (or I write and you read, but you get the point). I’ve been quite the busy bee lately and getting sick during Thanksgiving was a good time to let myself sit back and relax. I even detached my phone from my hand long enough to enjoy some of the books that have been languishing on my TBR list. Because I love you all so much I thought I’d help with you acquiring more for your reading wish lists and do reviews of the books I burned through and few that I’ve been waiting to tell you all about. They aren’t in any particular order except awesomeness;)

Billy London


Said the Demon to Little Miss Eva

Okay, this one is going way back but if I was going to do reviews I had to put it in because it’s what inspired me to do my Halloween extravaganza. I loved to be scared but not in that purely jumping out of the bushes and taking me by surprise kind of scared. No I mean the bump in the night that is under your bed kind of scared. Ms. London did such a terrific job of accomplishing this that I had to carry around my cat for protection when I went to pee in the middle of the night. What also made this a stellar horror genre story were the characters. When it all came together toward the end I wept a bit and sighed a sigh of contentment…and still checked under my bed as well.

Put Out the Zombie 

I’m having a fan girl moment if you haven’t noticed with Ms. London’s lovely little creeper stories. Like the previous story, I read this during my holy month (October) and was awed by how a Zombie could actually be sexy. In the horror genre they are my least favorite because I’ve never found them that scary. If a clean shot to the head or a good case of explosives can get the job done and get me to safety I’m not getting all that worked up. What I appreciated about this story was this wasn’t about Zombie’s as I’m familiar. Actually, I felt the “zombie” idea was seamlessly infused into a greater paranormal story line that allowed me to focus once again on the characters. Yes there is a theme here when reading a Billy London book, great characters.

Elle D. Hayes

Wynter’s Blossom

In all honesty I really struggled to pick this story up. Even the idea of a red haired character couldn’t move me past my fear of reading something that was going to have me doing my ugly cry but I persevered and did it and I couldn’t have been happier. One of the romance tropes I detest for creating a strong heroine is excessive victimization. Authors will take a female character and drop her in the dessert after being beaten by a marauding band of outlaws and than have a lightening bolt set her on fire and the whole time have the heroine saying, “Why does this keep happening to me” until she meets the hero and he makes it all better. Ugh…I want to see hardship and I want to see growth but I don’t want to have either of those housed exclusively in the heroine or hero’s character. Ms. Hayes does a great job of taking a story line that could have had me excessively despondent or excessively pissed but instead left me feeling hopeful. Which I think is the greatest gift a author can give to a reader.

Marteeka Karland

One Night Forever

I like being surprised only if it’s fun and I have to say Ms.Karland surprised me in a big way with this one. If you know Marteeka’s work you know the woman brings the sizzle, I’m actually blushing right now thinking about some of that sizzle, and while this story had the sizzle factor it also had heart. More specifically heart of a reality that many women can only experience in fantasy. I appreciated how she created a character that was not only given lemons but the entire orchard and helped her build a lemonade conglomeration. It is short, it is sweet and it does have a sexy part that made me blush (I mean it is Marteeka). It did what it needed to do and made me happy, with the way my week was going, that was all I needed.

Nevea Lane


Ronni’s Romanian

 

If I were to get one of those “Get out of jail free” cards and have one night to go buck wild with no repercussions, Nevea Lane would be the person I call up. The stories I’ve read about some of her ummm…escapades…makes me shake my head and go, “That really can’t be possible”. It’s nice to know that art of story telling crosses over when she’s also writing about fiction. This story had family strife, a strong heroine, and my favorite, a foreign Hottie McHottie. If I can picture the hero purring sexy things in my ear with an accent…done. With how crazy my schedule is I cherish fun quick reads such as these.

RW Shannon

Hells Angels

 Okay, I’m going to share something but you guys can’t laugh…stories set in Hell or with Demons freak me out. A story with vampires…pfft…or with were creatures…no problem…even zombies, monsters, or creepy crawlies…I’ve got a handle on it. Hell and Demons, I just hear my grandmother’s voice saying something like, “Little girl, you better leave that stuff alone.” I was pleasantly surprised that when I gave it a chance Ms. Shannon created a story that had the Demon/Hell element but the mythology of the story kept me in my safe zone and I could focus on the characters. I think that was most unique about it because if you are a person that wants to explore another facet of the paranormal genre but had the voice of your grandmother whispering in your ear give it a try. Oh, and did I mention there was some major hotness in it, because there are three of them, angelic hotness at that.

Nikki Winter


Sweet Allure

This is the next installment in a growing list of laugh out loud funny stories set on ranches in Texas. I like sharp wit and slightly psychotic heroines (crazy funny not just crazy) and once again this story has it. This story was a nice bridge for me into the holiday madness that is inevitable when celebrations have to be split between two families. I giggled and I ahhhed and most of all I’m really thinking Sig Other needs to get a Stetson because…well I kinda want to play cowboy and cowgirl now…smirk.

Drea Riley and Nikki Winter


Talking Dirty
I really dont’ know if this needs a review besides, this was hilarious and you should own it. I love inappropriate humor and a good inside joke. Even though this story came out of one of the best inside jokes in the BTP family I don’t think a reader that hasn’t gotten the back story will miss out. This is also one of my favorite types of stories, a thin line between love and hate, with the cross over happening because of the bam-shig-a-bow-bow. Strong heroine and sexy hero and I was in giggle mania heaven. Can’t wait to see what else the twinsies have in store for us.


   

Sigh,

I’ve done a couple of these reviews now and I’m sure you’ve all noticed that I can be quite cheeky and have a bit of an irreverent humor but this time…this time I got nothing. How do you describe someone speaking to your soul? Taking your fantasy and housing it in a reality that is so plausible that you can feel the warm sensation of bath water lapping against your skin. The touch of your lover and the rough texture of his fingertips trailing a path of fire down your spine. This isn’t about girlish sighs of wonderment or the hard powered thrusts of lust, this is the connection one has with another human being that connects the dots of love, trust, respect, and integrity into the soft lilting lyrical prose of passion.

This was a siren song that both men and women, gay or straight, cannot but stop to listen to, and enjoy the haunting melody of words that take the reader to a place they may find familiar or eager to discover. I am speechless and moved by the simplistic beauty of your work Mr. Essex, and I thank you. You spoke to my soul indeed…okay and some other parts too, for which Sig Other will be internally grateful.

*Looking around*
What? I held it together for a really long time. I mean clearly, with a title like Coming Home and Mr. Essex’s mastery of words, you should be grateful I was this adult in my review…*wink*

https://beautifultroublepublishing.com/xcart/Coming-Home-EBOOK.html

Allo’ Allo!

I’m currently in the process of writing a little ditty with Ms. Reana Malori that per our writing challenge instructions is going to be a madcap, whimsical, romance (not quite verbatim but you get my point). We’ve gone back and forth about what type of characters we want and what all that “madcap, whimsical, romance” will look like and I’m totally in the groove. So much so, that my creative synapses started firing and stories began to clutter my marginally large head (okay it’s pretty big but my broad shoulders balance it out) and guess what I’ve discovered, when not prompted I seem to have lost my ability to create something whimsical.

I start off pretty fun and then it’s as if I hop off the romantic comedy path and end up in the deep dark forest where shadows lurk and ghastly deeds are waiting to happen. I’ve got characters killing each other, and I’ve got societies turning in on themselves, and when I sit back and give it a hard stare I’ve noticed that what I’ve got is the reality of the world in which I live, and it really makes me feel like a Debbie Downer.  Don’t get me wrong, I like the idea of creating something thoughtful, a piece of writing that causes the reader to reflect on the human condition (however I’m describing it), and feel moved. I appreciate that as a reader myself but I also want a little fun and a little bit of naughty.

So I’m sending up a flare and hoping through the process of writing this new challenge my whimsical will find its way back to me, and decide that it’s going to stay, at least for awhile.

Janet

Ooh La La,

Last week I was sitting in the office all by my lonesome and trying valiantly to work when I thought, “Wouldn’t an afternoon delight be perfect right now.” Now before you start squirming over the thought that this may be a TMI kind of post I’m talking about a hot read. How lucky was I when presto magico Sweet Victory by Nikki Winter was right there when I needed it. Having read the first two books in the series I was jonesing for Rod’s (giggles) story. Yes he was “presented” as the complete whore schmuckity schmuck but I knew that he was a whore with a heart of gold and couldn’t wait to read about the woman that was going to corral (if you read the books you’ll notice the usage of that word is quite witty) him in. Victory was just the character to do that and some, but she was also a character that had to learn her own lessons about what a relationship should look like and it was those lessons she shared with Roderick that made their budding relationship endearing.

Quick and fun this third book in the Sweet Series (I quite possibly made that up but doesn’t it just sound right) gave me just what I needed when I needed it. Leaving a smile on my face and a little pep in my step as I went back to the drudgery of paperwork. Now what more could a gal ask for in an afternoon delight…ummmm.

Janet

*Doesn’t the cover just inspire thoughts of naughty things in the middle of the day as well…um huh

Grrrrr….

It really steams me how much people devalue the romance genre. Such terms as “bodice ripper” and the most derogatory of them all “porn”, really gets me going. Imagine my surprise when I was looking at the reviews for A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick, a book that had caught my attention while running errands in Target, I saw quite a few of the one stars littered liberally with these descriptions. Truthfully I never quite believe most of the reviews on Amazon because taste is so uniquely personal that not everyone is going to enjoy the same thing. What I’m usually looking at in the reviews is a balanced ratio of like to dislike. Not completely scientific but mostly accurate when I branch out with a new author.

Mr. Goolrick’s reviews appeared to pass muster of my little system but it was the frequent usage of disparaging comparisons of the romance genre to his story that really had me intrigued. There was an almost puritanical fervor in the prose reviewers used in their scathing critique of his fiction. While in the positive recommendations of the work there was very little mentioned about the sex some found so offensive. Of course I didn’t read all the reviews but the little I did read led me to believe I needed to get this book.

The book is set during the early decades of the Twentieth Century during winter in Wisconsin. There is a wealthy businessman in need of a wife and a mysterious woman in need of a wealthy husband in order to become a wealthy widow. I was immediately sold when in the description of the book I knew the mysterious woman was planning to kill the wealthy businessman. Devious and a bit twisted you may think but I was intrigued non the less. Now as the title of this blog implies, this is not a review but instead a rant. The book was often overly flowery in its descriptions and had a surreal quality of time and space that left me feeling adrift at times, but what I can definitely say is this was no “bodice ripper” or “porn”.

This was a story about isolation both the physical and the emotional. The subsequent darkness and often madness that such isolation causes and the promise of redemption that sex and all its intimacies can deliver. There are no quaint little drawing rooms where Victorian etiquette is practiced by the hero and heroine. There may be a villain but the face of his character changes constantly throughout the narrative that at times I couldn’t quite decide what was particularly villainous. My rant is centered around the fact that there is such a lack of respect for the genre that I love and write in that a book that does have sex, however tragic in its presentation, is written off as pure smut.

While the language was a disjointed stream of consciousness that upon reflection accurately described the disjointed reality of the characters, the sex was in my opinion frank and accurate. It was at times sweet and tender with a edge of malice. It was raw and animalistic with a hint of the divine while whispering its blasphemies. Did it sound like a male narrative of the act, yes, and was I often put off by this maleness that expressed sexuality so differently than my own, quite possibly. Does that mean I get on my moral high horse and diss an entire genre of fiction because said sex didn’t always prescribe to my definitions, no. Or because I thought this book was supposed to be “gothic” or a “suspense” I rip it to shreds because it has several scenes of copulation, absolutely not.

I really think people need to get over themselves and put down their scarlet letters. Sex in a story does not devalue it in the same way that sex alone can’t make it better. When I finished the book I couldn’t really say if I liked it or disliked it because I was haunted by a great deal of what was presented in the story and it didn’t have anything to do with the sex.

As for rants this is pretty mild in comparison to my usual tirades but as I still sit with the story, or more accurately as the story still sits with me, I had to share some of my ire.

Janet

Bueno,

Well Hello,

I was recently having a conversation with two of my co-workers about personal accountability and how we foster that in children. It all started because my co-workers three year old asked him for something and my co-worker said he would do it later, adding just as his little son went to walk away, “Make sure you hold me accountable.” We all chuckled because it seemed like such an odd thing to say to a three year old but my co-worker said he wanted to start early.

Driving home that day I started thinking about how personal accountability was fostered in me as a child. What immediately came to mind were the times I would say I couldn’t do something because “so and so” prevented me or it was hard for me to learn something because “so and so” didn’t make it easy and my mother would simply ask, “The ball took a bad hop?” I’m sure dear reader you’re probably wondering what the hell does that have to do with personal accountability, well let me explain.

My mother would quote this commercial endlessly when I was a child. As it was in circulation a good decade before I was born I only have her and some of my cousins recollection of how it went. I believe it may have been a cereal commercial but the premise was there was a little boy that complained about how everything prevented him from playing baseball well. His line was, “The ball took a bad hop, the sun was in my eyes, and this glove is too big. I tripped over that rock, stupid rock.”

The line was always delivered in this whiny sing song manner that implied that the speaker was incapable of seeing their part in what went wrong. No personal accountability. It was an affective tool for me as a child and even into my adult years. Until I realized sometimes the ball really does take a bad hop and the fucking sun is in my eyes, these damn gloves are way too big for me, and that stupid rock was in my way. Personal accountability can only go so far when life is determined to get in your way.

Which brings me to the crux of this narrative. How do you teach someone they have to be responsible for their actions knowing there will be times when somethings are just out of their control?

It’s a good thing I only have cats;)

Janet

Bonjour mon ami,

For the 4th of July weekend Sig Other and I took a trip up to Napa with our close couple friends B&H, the second trip we’ve made with the couple because they are the BEST people to travel with. It’s like having our own tour guides/concierge/DJs and if you’ve ever taken a trip for any extended period up the 5 North you know that great traveling companions are a must. It was during one of the inevitable moments that happens on a road trip where everyone is talked out, the radio gets a little louder and the barren landscape starts to lull one into a state of reflection that Sig Other started one of those conversations that alters the way that I see how he sees me.

I was watching the landscape of dry grass, not so happy looking cows and more dry grass fly by as I sat in the front passenger seat when Sig Other asked as he drove, “What’s your favorite flower?” Now this question was particularly interesting because I struggle with labeling anything my “favorite”. I feel that there is a great deal of expectation in the answer and how it reflects on you as a person, particularly to the person that is asking. What if your favorite is something they completely hate and now you feel obligated to justify your choice or they share the same, are you now instantly bonded by this connection even if you detest everything else about the person? Is your favorite hip enough or cool enough and what if you change your mind, only to be labeled with this “favorite” thing indefinitely? Of course I have a tendency to over think things, like to the nth degree, so this spiralling internal dialogue of neurosis is probably something unique to me…but I digress.

What I really struggle with is I am constantly changing and evolving as a person that I find it difficult to think of something as my favorite constantly when my desires and taste can shift so dramatically from the present to the future. But this is Sig Other and I decide to play along and say, “The sunflower,” because in that moment it was the flower that spoke to me the most (yes that is new agey but what can I say, I’m from California). To which Sig Other replied, “That’s what I thought.”

Well of course I’m now immensely curious because where as I pulled that answer from a place housed in my present reflection, a reflection that could be altered a year from the date I was asked the question, Sig Other sounded so sure in his assessment of what a “favorite” thing of mine may be. I asked him, “What made you think that?” Now this question could be answered in a variety of ways by my illustrious better half, falling into two major categories. He could be romantic in his response causing me to smile and think how lucky I am to have him or he could be romantically clumsy in his response causing me to roll my eyes and think how lucky I am to have him.

What he said was, “I knew you would pick the sunflower because it’s strong like you. A rose or flower like that seems too delicate, not sturdy enough.” Looking over I could see his brow crinkling in concentration as he sought the words to express himself, as he stared out onto the open road. It was romantic and to a woman that doesn’t have such a abiding confidence in her self worth as myself the “sturdy” aspect may have been a tad bit unromantic, but for me it was honest and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Smiling I reached over and squeezed his hand resting on the center console of the car and thought maybe the sunflower would be my favorite flower a little longer than I expected.

Janet

http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1613

But I’ve gotten ahead of myself. Wanted 2: Vodka Shots is the story of a man (Dmitry) trying to locate the woman (Karri) that double crossed him and make her pay. Only to find out the double cross, no less hurtful, had justifiable reasons. It happens in space, with cool space descriptions and a cool space fight. That’s basically my synopsis because you can read the blurb that a professional took the time to write if you want more details.