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I assume that the majority of you will have read the review of Phoenix Sullivan’s book over at Dear Author by now?

If you haven’t already, this is not a bad thing believe me.

The following post is full of bad words. Lots of bad words. You have been warned.

Basically, apparently, the book is set in pre-Arthurian times. The heroine gets kidnapped by the ‘hero’ and whilst in his care, gets raped repeatedly by different men. When I say repeatedly, I mean repeatedly. In fact, the way the reviewer tells it, the raping of the heroine becomes something of a sport.

If this wasn’t bad enough, there’s also a kidnapped eleven year old who is also regularly raped, something that apparently turns our heroine on. Yep, you read that right.

Here’s the excerpt that I lifted from DA, highlighting the heroine’s horniness over hearing an eleven year old child being raped. (more…)

I heard about Scarlett Rose And The Seven Longhorns from Has Book Pusher over on Twitter a while ago. I was curious at the time, but I couldn’t actually bring myself to buy it straight away.

There seems to be a trend lately of having the most outrageous shape-shifters. I’m pretty sure there’s a story about a were-duck out there, but I have my limits, ya know?

Anyway, I resisted for a while, but I had a look at the price on my Kindle, and it was only £3.54, so I thought why not? Why not indeed. Sigh.

Basically, this is a story about a woman called Scarlett who obviously has the biggest vagina in the world, since she gets to share it with seven longhorn shapeshifters, who all love her to death, and swear to protect her from all the evil people trying to kill her.

Here’s the actual blurb from the Book Strand website: (more…)

Shannon McKenna’s McCloud Brothers books have always been a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. I know that I really shouldn’t like them, because they normally have the most assholic heroes and the heroines are generally too stupid to live.

This however, has never stopped me from looking forward to her new releases. I always fondly remember our 2005 vacation whenever I think about some of her earlier books.

Fade to Midnight is Kev Larsen’s story. Readers of this series will know that Kev has been missing for eighteen years, presumed dead by most, even at times by us readers. There was a time when I wondered whether Ms McKenna would ever bite the bullet and write his story. And so here we are. At last.

Here’s the blurb from Ms McKenna’s website: (more…)

In defense of the clueless

Over at the Book Binge, the nice ladies there posted this about the whole Silvia Massara thing. My summary*:

If you don’t want an honest review, don’t send us your work. If you are going to send us your work, check out the ‘about’ page, wherein we state that we won’t write only gushing accolades to every book we get sent. If you are an idiot about a less than gushing review in this here site, you’ll get mocked. Get over it.

As one can easily imagine, there’re quite a few comments going on–mostly marveling at the stupidity of an author trashing readers. Yes, readers. Her target market. The consumers of her product. The people who make her what she is–in a world with no readers, would there even be authors?

But alas, no such thread would be complete without at least one person–aside from the predictable c*ckpuppet–claiming that of course, the poor author has every right to ‘review the reviewers’ blog.’

Bob Mayer writes:

So let’s see. An author got upset about a bad review and blogged about it. A reviewer got upset about the blog and blogged about it and called the author an ass and an idiot, while saying they don’t say things like that in reviews. But just did in a review of the blog.

I’m wondering what I’m missing here. I’ve read both blogs and the author didn’t call the reviewer names and seemed relatively level-headed about it. This blog post seems spiteful and superior. I know few authors would dare say that, because, after all, they want good reviews, but as an author who has been around a while, I’m a bit weary of self-appointed experts slamming authors in public and everyone kowtowing to them. Calling an author a “big fat ass” and having a picture saying “I tried to see things your way. You’re still an idiot” isn’t professional. So I think the author probably has a reasonable point to avoid reviewers that would say such things about authors. Because it appears when the shoe is on the other foot and the reviewer gets reviewed, they react even more heatedly than the author. Your blog post confirmed exactly what the author said about you if you look at it quite rationally.

Let’s take this in stages, shall we? (more…)

Does anybody know who Sylvia Massara is? Anybody?

All I know is, she sure is an awfully stupid brave author.

She’s set up a blog, called Authors Helping Authors. Yep, it does indeed sound like one of those support groups where people stand up and tell a roomful of strangers about their woes, doesn’t it?

Anyway, this is the aim of the blog, according to our lovely Sylvie Poohs:

As an author, I know how difficult it is to promote one’s work. These days, unless one is a “celeb author”, much of the promotional work is left up to the author themselves. With this in view, I created this blog “Authors helping authors”

Imagine the power of authors helping other authors promote their work, and in turn, these authors help you, and so on and so forth. By standing together we can make this happen. In this blog, I will be featuring articles, snippets about other authors and tips from authors and/or publicists who help promote authors.

Oh how admirable, I hear you say, what a lovely selfless gesture I hear you all cry, why didn’t I think of doing such a thing, the envious ones amongst you secretly think to yourselves. Well….. here’s the thing, there are plenty of blogs out there that help authors. Indeed, many of these blogs are written by authors for other authors. Weird huh? (more…)

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OK, so I read The Gingerbread Tryst, a book by Nichelle Gregory, that Jill Noble very kindly sent to me after I erm, questioned the wisdom of using a much-loved, innocent fairytale character in an erotic book.

Here’s the blurb:

Meet Marisa, a restless homemaker who spends her time baking, masturbating and dabbling in magic. Happily married, Marisa only wishes her husband Don could keep up with her insatiable need for sex. She craves orgasms daily and her sex drive has become a sore spot in an otherwise happy marriage. Determined to find a solution to ramp up Don’s libido, she turns to magic.

After trying magical amulets and oils, Marisa discovers a book that contains wish spells. Throwing caution to the wind, she decides to experiment with an incantation that could make her naughty gingerbread man cookie a real flesh and blood man. Taken by surprise . . . literally, Marisa indulges in a delicious sexual rendezvous that ends up going further than she could have ever imagined. This delightfully sexy tale offers up hot thrills sure to please any sweet tooth!

Where do I begin? (more…)

asshole

Calling a reader white trash is one of them.

Surely that’s something anybody with half a brain cell would know?

Origianlly, I wasn’t going to do a blog post on this, because I didn’t want to cause Trista Ann Michaels (Hey Trista, I linked to your page on Loose Id and everything, isn’t that great?) grief, but then I took my head out of my arse, and remembered that this isn’t a blog known for its restraint.

Might as well live by the Mean Girl code, yes?

Anyway, where was I? Yeah that’s right, here’s a really good example of what not to write on a reader blog: (more…)

Karen Does Ben's Wildflower, By Carol Lynne...


Interesting cover…

Please note, the following review contains spoilers and excerpts.

This review was painful to write, but it had to be done. Carol Lynne, if you happen to come across this review, whilst googling yourself, I’d recommend that you don’t read any further. It’s not a gushing lovey-dovey review, in fact, it may be a tad… harsh? I’m sorry.

Anyway, without further ado, here’s the blurb from Elloras Cave.

My Verdict

Jesus. Effing. Christ.

I can honestly say, it’s been a while since I read a book so bad, I had to review it.

I’m almost sorry to do this to Ms Lynne, but I can’t imagine who thought it was a good idea to put this book out for public consumption. Seriously, I don’t even know where to begin.

I should have known things were gonna be bad when the hero insisted on calling the heroine ‘Wildflower’. Could the author be more corny?

The sheer amateurish nature of this book, lead me to conclude that the author was fairly new to publishing, and looking at her website, it seems that I may be right, unless of course she publishes under another guise Please say it aint so!.

For the love of all things Oprah, please let her be a newbie author, because if she aint, then she’s got no fucking excuse for the pile of steaming horse manure that I’ve just subjected myself to.

The characterisation was poor beyond belief, I couldn’t get over the ridiculously stilted dialogue, the slightly bizarre storyline, and the whole host of secondary characters, who all seemed to be either gay, or at least thinking about it.

Ben and Kate (the hero and heroine) have some friends who are involved in a menage relationship. The woman in the menage is pregnant, and the two men are denying her sex because apparently pregnant women can’t indulge in carnal activities.

Now bear in mind that this is a contemp set in a town called Junctionville, but there’s a strange old scene where Ben is lamenting over the issues that Kate has been having, to his friends, when suddenly, the two men, who form part of the menage start tonguing each other in public, and feeling each other’s cocks. Huh?

Not only that, but at one point Ben, who’s obviously a manly heterosexual man, is on the phone to one of his buddies, and he turns round to find that the two men, unable to keep their passions below boiling, start going at each other whilst he’s sat there. And when I say going at each other, what I mean is, one guy sticks his tongue in the other guys arse, and starts licking him out.

What. The. Fuck?

Now I’m not saying that shit like this doesn’t happen, but considering that one of the men was the local sheriff, and the other one had an equally ‘masculine’, public minded job, I just don’t think they would behave like that in a straight bar, in a town called Junctionville, know what I mean?

I’m sorry, I’m usually willing to suspend disbelief when reading erotic romance, but this was just something I couldn’t see happening. This is the equivalent of TTG and I having dinner with friends, then me pulling down my knickers, and letting him feast on my womanly bud. I think not.

I know that these kind of scenes happen a lot in erotic romance, but this was a contemp set in a town called Junctionville for fuck’s sake, if that doesn’t scream redneckville, I don’t know what does.

What I couldn’t understand was that there was this raving lunatic, who was obviously going round causing Katie-Did trouble, and kept trying to kill her at every opportunity, whilst leaving big-assed clues that he was the guilty party, yet for some reason, nothing was ever done about it.

Erm… hold on, on second thoughts, that doesn’t sound so far-fetched. That shit happens in England all the time.

Oh by the way, did I mention that Ben (our hero) had a problem with his overgrown dick? No? Well he did. What clued me in on his little problem, I hear you ask?

Oooh, let me count the ways:

Clue number one: He has a ten inch dick.

Clue number two: He has to stick it to his heroine, itty bitty inches at a time, so that he doesn’t rip her in half.

Clue number thr… fuck that, more to the point, I want to know who the fuck says something as stupid as ‘I can handle your cock’s circumference’? Blech.

Clue number four: Even Ben’s friends have noticed the size of his pecker.

Good fucking lord. *Head-desk*

I get it, Ben has a big dick, and it’s been the bane of his life, now please move on with the fucking story.

*Ahem*, I digress…

Not only were the primary characters totally lacking any kind of depth, the villain, was just sooo over the top evil, I almost found myself sympathising with him. He was a crap baddie, and it didn’t help that he didn’t seem to be the brightest tool in the box either.

Anytime he did something evil to Kate, he left great big fucking clues that anybody with half a brain cell would have been able to figure out. He might as well have taken out an ad in the local rag, telling everybody that he did it. Sigh.

I just remembered that there was a sub-plot involving a couple of Ben’s friends, that seemed to have just been dumped in the middle of the book. There was simply no rhyme or reason for it, so my best guess was that the author was doing her utmost to meet her minimum word count. Oh the pain.

Another thing that bemused me was Ms Lynne’s apparent love for the phrase, ‘Little Fucker’. I wonder if she realised just how often she used said phrase, when referring to the villain of the book? I was tempted to count, but I couldn’t be arsed. Anybody who buys Ben’s Wildflower will quickly see what I mean.

I briefly mentioned the stilted dialogue before, but it was gems like the following that had me nearly peeing my panties. I’m not sure that was the intended reaction though:

“Speaking of fucking. I’ve been giving it some thought and if you’re still interested I think I’d like you to fuck me in the ass.”

I loved how the author wrote the above in such a way that Kate could have been easily asking for more sugar in her coffee. Did I mention that the heroine was nervous about sex when she met the hero? And that for some reason she had bras with the nipples cut out, even though she was scared of S.E.X?

This book was so badly written, that it made Thea Devine’s Sensation seem positively wonderful. My regular readers will know that this is not a good thing. Seriously.

There were so many things wrong with Ben’s Wildflower that the problem would be knowing when to stop listing my issues with the book. It was craptastic in way that I haven’t experienced in a long while.

I have to say, it isn’t often that I come across a book so bad, that I have to question what the editor was smoking when she agreed to publish it. I’m sorry Ms Lynne, I pray that you aren’t somebody I actually like. but this book was so technically inept that it leads me to indeed wonder what the fuck your editor was shooting up, when she offered you a contract for it.

It really was that crap.

You can visit Carol Lynne’s very interesting website here, and buy Ben’s Wildflower in e-book format, here.

Ok, that’s enough from me, I’m just going to gargle with mouthwash to take the nasty taste of this book out of my mouth. I feel so dirty, I think that a bath is also in order.