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.
Friday, January 27, 2017
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.
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.
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