Friday, January 27, 2017

Recent Release: Cry Havoc by Jolie Mason

I have been terribly remiss in not getting this post out to you sooner.  A week ago my colleague Jolie Mason, the queen of space opera, released her latest creation, Cry Havoc.  I had the pleasure of helping her edit it.  She combines all the excitement of evil empires and space warfare with a touching tale of growing up and the bonds of a chosen family.  Those of you familiar with the rich world Mason has created through her previous releases will not be disappointed.  Those of you new to Mason or to the genre will, I think, be pleasantly surprised at how truly enjoyable her work is.  As much turmoil as we have in our country at the moment, a chance at a little escapism is a gift.  I suggest you take Mason up on it.


New Release: Lost and Bound by Pandora Spocks



The queen of classy erotic romance has a new release available for pre-order!  Lost and Bound is the second book in Pandora Spocks' Dream Dominant Collection, which features sweet romances with a liberal dash of bondage and submission.  A starlet in trouble is sent to the wilderness for 6 weeks after a drunken incident.  Not surprisingly, she finds more than trees and fresh air up in Canada.  I will admit to a slight bias, as I helped edit this new addition to the extensive and high-quality Spocks oeuvre.  Check out this excerpt:

             Blake expertly angled the small boat to rest beside the tiny dock and killed the motor, tying off his end before jumping out and tying the front end as well.  Then he again offered his hand, helping Shasta climb out of the boat and onto the dock. 
             She stood taking in the view as he unloaded her things.  The lodge was visible across the water, seemingly closer than it actually was, judging by the ten-minute ride.  If she hadn’t been in such a foul mood, she would have found the place beautiful.  The only sound she could hear was the wind in the tops of the countless pine trees covering the island.  It would be a short climb up to the crest of the island where a log cabin sat.  She could see a stone-surrounded fire pit flanked by a quartet of dark green wooden Adirondack chairs and further away, stretched between two large pines, was a white canvas hammock. 
               When all her things were on the dock, Blake turned to her.  “Let me take you to the cabin.  There are a few things I need to show you.”
               He took off up the hill and Shasta teetered along behind him, carefully avoiding large rocks that were in the way.  “Are you making it?” he called over his shoulder.
               “I’ve got this, don’t worry about me,” she muttered.
               Blake turned away and grinned to himself.  He was waiting for her when she finally made it up the hill.  “I hope you brought other shoes.”
               Out of breath, Shasta put her hands on her hips and nodded. 
               He unlocked the door and held it open for her to enter the cabin.  She stepped into an open room featuring a seating area in front of a fireplace immediately to her right.  Further into the room, a kitchen was arranged in the back left quarter of the space with a cast iron stove on the back wall and a kitchen table pushed against the right wall down from the fireplace.  Between the fireplace and the kitchen table was a small desk that held some sort of radio equipment.  Shasta peered into an alcove to her left and saw that it was a tiny bedroom. 
               “Now,” Blake was saying, “the lights run on propane.  You turn this little lever and you can light them with a lighter.  The fridge and the cooktop also run on propane.  Same thing, you turn the knob and then light it with the lighter.  I already lit the pilot on the fridge and it should be fine.”  He indicated a small metal box beneath the kitchen counter.
               Wordlessly, Shasta followed him around the room, trying to take in all his instructions.  “Now if you want to bake, or if you’re just cold, you can build a fire in the stove.”  He showed her where to put the wood.  “And there’s always the fireplace.  Wood is stacked outside against the back of the cabin.  I can always bring you more, too.”
               He waved at the few kitchen cabinets.  “We’ve stocked the cabinets and the refrigerator but if you need anything, just let me know.”  He headed for the door.  “Water comes from a spring near the front of the island.”
               “Wait.  What?”
               “Water.  You know, to drink?”
               Desperately, Shasta searched the room, making a beeline to the sink.  Instead of a faucet, there was a green-painted old-fashioned hand pump.  She worked the handle a few times and a spurt of water came out.  She looked back to him, bewildered.
               “Well, you can’t drink that.  Not without boiling it for about ten minutes.  It comes straight out of the lake.  Use it for dishes and things.  You can drink the spring water right out of the ground.”
               “Wait a second.  Where’s the bathroom?” 
               “I was just going to show you.  Follow me.”
               Blake headed out the door and Shasta followed along behind him.  He turned down the right side of the cabin, following a narrow trail through the trees.  Shortly, the path opened onto a small clearing and to the right of the clearing was a tiny log structure.  “Here’s your bathroom,” he pointed.
               She began to shake her head.  “Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” she murmured.  “There must be some mistake.  I don’t do outhouses.  Does Eddie know about this?” she demanded.
               “Who’s Eddie?” Blake returned, picturing the smarmy suit guy.
               “No.  Absolutely not.  This is completely unacceptable.  Besides,” she breathed deeply, trying to regain her composure, “where is the shower?”
               “Well, some guests bathe in the lake.”  He took in her incredulous expression and continued.  “On the other hand, we do have a solar shower.  I’ll show you.” 
               Shasta followed him down the other side of the cabin, to the place where the tiny bedroom jutting out from the main cabin made a little sheltered corner.  A post was situated in the corner with a pulley rigged to the top. 
               “This is a solar shower.”  Blake held up a large flat rectangular vinyl pouch that was clear on one side and black on the other.  The clear side had a large round valve and there was a handle on one end.  The other end had clear tubing attached and at the end of the tubing was a tiny shower head.
               “You fill this up with water, seal the valve, and lay it out in the sun.  The dock is a good place.”  He watched as Shasta held her forehead with the palm of one hand, gaping at him in disbelief.  “Anyway, when you’re ready for a shower, you hang it up here,” he indicated the pulley, “and just shower away.  The spruce trees right here make for privacy, although you shouldn’t have any folks out on the lake, seeing as how you’ve rented out the whole place.”
               Wordlessly, Shasta turned and hobbled back to the front of the cabin, sinking into one of the Adirondack chairs.  Blake followed, hands in his pockets, uncertain whether or not to continue the tour.  She glanced up at him, deciding to change tacks. 
               “Listen,” she smoothed, “we seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot.”  She pasted on her dazzling Shasta Pyke smile.  “Obviously, there’s been some kind of mistake.”  Standing, she approached him, pushing her glasses back up onto her head and fixing him with soft brown eyes. 
               “Here’s the thing.”  She reached out to stroke his arm, biting her lower lip provocatively.  “I can’t stay here.  And you don’t want me here, not really.  The place is already paid for.  Just,” she stepped closer, brushing her breasts against his arm, “maybe you could drive me someplace where I can get a cab or an Uber or something, and I’ll be out of your hair.”  She wrinkled her nose and winked.  “What do you say?”
               A slow smile spread across Blake’s face.  “What do I say?”  He laughed lightly, shaking head.  “I say, you’re a piece of work, lady.”  With that, he turned.  “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
               “Wait!” she shouted after him.  “You can’t just leave me here!”
               He waved over his head and didn’t turn around.
               “Come back here!  You come back here right now!”
               Wordlessly, he cast off from the dock and pushed the boat away from the shallow water. 
               “What about my bags?  They need to be taken to the cabin!”
               “And it will be dark soon.  So you might want to get on that,” Blake chuckled.
               Shasta was on the dock by now and she stomped her foot, fists balled at her sides.  “Do you know who I am?” she screamed.
               “You look to me like a little brat who needs her ass tanned,” he fired back.
               She shrieked unintelligibly and threw a rock at the boat.  She missed by a mile and the rock plonked harmlessly into the water.
               Blake laughed again, started the engine, and headed back to the lodge.  

If you love a hot romance, Pandora Spocks is your girl. 

Monday, January 23, 2017

New Release: Swiftly Sharpens the Fang by Stuart Kenyon

Next week, my friend Stuart Kenyon is releasing his new thriller, Swiftly Sharpens the Fang. It is available for pre-order at only $0.99. This is the first book of his that I've read, and I was quite impressed.



The novel explores the global issue of radicalization from the intimate perspective of his protagonist, Joe.  With the passing of Brexit and the rise of Trump propelling white nationalism into the headlines worldwide, the story of a white Briton’s descent into the racist underworld of seems especially timely.  Joe is rendered susceptible by a variety of factors, including his grief over his father’s death at the hands of Muslim terrorists, his mental illness, and his generally miserable life.  Watching him be manipulated by others in the movement creates a sense of impending doom that keeps you turning the pages.  The story brings home the way that providing a sense of community can motivate extreme human behavior.  The author does an effective job of humanizing both Joe and the movement’s victims.

Stuart has previously published a series of dystopian thrillers, The Subnormal Series. I'll be interested to see where his writing career goes. He has both good ideas and solid execution, so I have high hopes.