Tuesday, March 23, 2010
"Walter Mosley writes like he’s the only author in a world full of readers”.
In a world of overused superlatives; Walter Mosley stands out as TRUE recipient of the word 'genius' and any other accompanying synonyms. I get nervous when writing a review for one of Mosley’s books because I feel like a third grader standing in front of the ‘Mona Lisa’ and being told to critique it. So instead of trying to wrack my brain, write something profound or critique the work of a word-smith master... I'll just tell you how much I enjoyed this book (that kind of IS the purpose of a review, huh?).
Leonid is a poor man’s private eye. And like any good private eye, he has people on the good (and bad side) of the law, and the good (and bad side) of society. He's like a modern day mercenary, a gun for hire, a man's-man when you're in a pinch... a professor in philosophy for the street. Leonid is caught up in another octopus-type mystery. I say “octopus-type” because there are a LOT of characters and a LOT going on within the streets of New York. Come to think of it, New York is probably the only city with enough chutzpah to handle Leonid AND Mr. Mosley. Leonid’s personal life is convoluted. Leonid’s professional life is convoluted. Together they create a labyrinth of shady characters, bad cops, loose women, and nocturnal friends.
The brilliance of ‘Known to Evil’ is that it makes the classic black-n-white mystery noir seem brand new. While at the same time, continues to concretes Walter Mosley as a living literary legend. Most of us strive to leave a mark on this world by the time we die. With Leonid, Mosley is starting on his second Grand Canyon.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
OK, she could have just left "wanna be" out the title. Calling this sex kitten a "wanna be" sex addict is like calling me a "wanna be" buffalo wing lover. It may sound nicer and might make you feel better, but at the end of the day we're both going to have sauce on our face and licking our fingers. The best thing about this book, aside from the blatant sexuality, is the fact that it's true. The phrase "truth is stranger than fiction" is very apt here. I've never been one to hold a double standard to women when it comes to sexuality. If a man can bump around and be called "tha' man", then a woman should be able to do the same thing.
And Julia does. A lot. A whole heckava lot. There were a number of times where her non-obsession mixed in with drugs and that was the part that made this story real. I wonder if it was the drugs that made her so open to her sexuality. But heck, I'm no psychiatrist so what do I care? All I know is that this is an extremely sexual and erotic book, the author is hot, and... well... what more do you need? My only issue is with the last sentence; "he is my last story". What tha'...!?! She better not stop writing erotica just because she meets some nice guy! I will have to hunt him down and go Bill Clinton vs. Vince Foster on his butt! I jest (sorta) but I really did enjoy this book. It was short, to the point, and she didn't make excuses for her actions. `The Predator' chapter is awesome. Think "p" personified. I'm sure you can figure out what the "p" stands for. If not e-mail me and I'll send you a picture.
All jokes aside, I hope this author pens more of her erotic work because 1. I enjoy erotica. 2. I enjoy erotica by cute, lithe women 3. See 1 & 2.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
I won this book in a contest by the author and I couldn’t WAIT to start reading it. This is an extremely sexual book with a LOT going on. The four main characters; Valencia, Teela, Miki, and Brandi are women with the sexual appetites of a man. No, scratch that… they have the sexual appetite of a man who has been imprisoned on a desert isle for eight years, while being fed a diet of Viagra, Levitra and oysters, being forced to watch (while handcuffed) Ebony Ayes and Ron Jeremy.
The title of this book is the perfect one for this story because it is a perfect definition of these women. Reading about the lives of these four women is very voyeuristic and sexual. Unfortunately, all of the sex they experience is not the “good” kind. A lot of it is painful, risky, dangerous, mindless, and self-induced. I think the author was trying to do two things: 1. I think she was trying to tell a story, and 2. I think she was trying to show us how real and devastating sexual addiction can be. The only problem with trying to do both in a fictional story was that; when she started talking about the ‘serious’ part of the story, it really slowed down.
It was kind of like I was in a Sex-Ed class taught by a naked Gabrielle Union and then right before she demonstrates how she gives herself an orgasm, in walks a very old and very wrinkled Lynn Hamilton (Donna from ‘Sanford & Son’) to take over the class. I get what Pynk was trying to do, but I found myself speed-reading through these parts because I didn’t want to hear all that.
Everyone one of the main characters has a sexual monkey on their back and while its fun to read about their exploits, you do feel sorry for them once you really get into the story. The saying goes “Everything that glitters aint always gold”. Well having a girlfriend who can’t get enough may not be all that it’s cracked up to be either. I know… hard to believe :-) but read this book and you’ll see what I’m talking about. Pynk doesn’t hold back on the drama or the sex. You’ll get a healthy dose of both, right in your face so be prepared. If you haven’t read anything by Pynk, ‘Sexaholics’ just might just make you a ‘Pynkaholic’.
Like most of you (book lovers) my stack of `books I need to read' list is as long as Kim Kardashian `guys I've slept with' list. So because of this, I haven't read Mario Acevedo's work in a couple years. After reading this book I felt so stupid! Not normal everyday "I locked my keys in the car stupid"; but rather an "a Blonde got an AM radio for Christmas and it took her ten months to figure out she could use it at night" stupid! During one of my numerous temper tantrum throwing/whining 'I can't find anything to read' phases, I should have picked up one of Mario's books and had my problem solved.
I became a fan while reading 'Nymphos of Rocky Flats' because Felix is my kind of vampire. He enjoys (immensely) the carnal pleasures, is an unapologetic smart-ass, and enjoys the carnal pleasures WHILE being an apologetic smart-ass! He's not some pretty metro sexual, sparkle-in-the-daytime, scamper up trees shirtless vamp. Naw, Felix is a character that stands out in a crowd of characters. If you want a foo-foo vampire, please take your Edward vs. Jacob, half soy half chai latte drinking cadaver someplace else. This here book is for grown folks.
Felix is tangled up in another vampirific mess, and while I've missed a couple books, I was immediately drawn back into a hypnotic reading trance that only Felix could cast. I mean come on... the first page you have a clan alpha werewolf talking to a vampire while holding up the decapitated head of a werewolf! And true to form, Felix gets off a smart-ass remark by paragraph two. He's been 'recruited' to help this clan werewolf figure out his place as ruler of the clans and to help prevent a war between warring werewolf factions. Problem is he shouldn't be. Vampires don't meddle in the affairs of werewolves and vice versa. But the numerous powers that be aren't satisfied with minor things say like; tradition and ancient unbroken clan rules. Quest for power trumps all right?
So, Felix is thrust talons first into some of the seediest and backstabbing manusha this side of Washington D.C. And, oh yes, there is blood! Blood, pain, hot rancid meat, delicious salty b-positive filling the stomach, and some rather sexy (yet disturbing) wolf on vampire sex. Having all this take place in Charleston, SC is an added bonus. Growing up there and having family from there I was down there all too often, but I got a tiny kick out of knowing exactly where Felix was. It was just as I remember it; minus the dryad's, six foot hairy beasts, and I'm certain I don't remember a gangster vampire. But maybe that's just me.
I usually also avoid books that deal with the supernatural element. Vamps and Weres are OK, but that other sorcery mumbo jumbo to me is like Mike Tyson and a dictionary; it just doesn't mix. But I'm ok when Mario does it. It's not too much, it's not over the top, it's in there but it doesn't dominate the story. What does dominate is Felix's antics, the supernatural action, the blood filled scenes, and Mario's demented yet enviable talent. I shall not make the mistake again of having Mario's books getting lost in the lost library of Frost.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Delicious. Like warm caramel on a taunt, yet supple body. The first two minutes after a tsunami orgasm. Beads of sweat on parts of your body that you didn’t know that COULD sweat. Emotional fornication. If sex, lust, and words had a ménage a trios that produced child, this book would be it. I read a lot of erotic collections and it’s darn near impossible to find one where every story is one to savor. This one, however, comes tantalizing close.
The first story sets the tone because it is, quite simply, the best* in this book. From the set-up, to the story, to the negotiated sex, to the finish. Oh to be a strobe light in THAT van! I put an "*" next to 'best' because there is another story in here that is absolutely extraordinary! 'Stranger in the Water' is one of those special short stories that you
wish would go on forever. And surprisingly it's not about the sex. Oh it's in there all right, but this story... this story... you feel. This story, you crave. If there was a better way for me to describe it, I would. But I can't. 'Dangerous Comfort' is one of those 'oh why can't that ever happen to me' stories. Loved it. 'Lonnie's Licks' made me squirm and 'Irresistible' made me fidget.
'All Day' had me thinking there was NO WAY I could do that, no way I would even try. 'A Taste of Tyrell' was just plain sexy! Yes, there were a couple stories that I skipped because, while being sexually free, I'm not into EVERYTHING :-) Cole Riley has done a magnificent job of putting together a truly hot erotic collection.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
OK seriously… my praise of Brad Thor is almost getting to the point of being repetitiously nauseating. I mean this man just does not miss! To be fair, this one did have a slight speed bump in the beginning that I wasn’t accustomed to by Brad Thor… but it passed. The evil morons in this story is Russia and they have put into motion a terrorist act to grand that I *almost* thought this would be one mission that that Scot wouldn’t be able to complete. Stupid assumption… I really should know better.
‘State of the Union’ is classic Brad Thor. “Classic” in this case meaning, “a creation of the highest excellence”. Not the traditional “classic; it has to be around for twenty years before we can call it that” definition. Rack up another winner for Brad!