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This isn't what I was reading, but I had
to have something graphic for the first part.
Now I want
to read this book. Girls Out of Hell.
Yeah. |
Yes, I read. I read a lot. I have to stop reading certain genres when I'm writing. For example, if I'm writing a mystery, I can't be reading mysteries because I tend to take on the writing style of what I'm reading. (I found myself doing a distinctly Stephen King sentence last week while I was reading
Mr. Mercedes. Bad, bad, bad writer.)
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She doesn't really look like an office hussy
to me. She looks like she's waiting to
pass gas. |
So I'm writing
Death Twitches: A Lake People Novel, or the 4th Lake People novel, and I'm reading this, that, and the other. I get one novel which is Space Opera: Mommy Porn. (It was free or 99 cents, one or the other, and I felt like being amused, so I did it. I admit it.) I won't name the book or the author because I don't really want to embarrass the author, but I do want to comment on the author's entrepreneurial style. I really, really,
really want to comment.
Here's the set-up. Aliens invade Earth, as they're wont to do. Some other aliens save our Earthly asses, as they're wont to do. But, in exchange for saving our tushes, they want our women. So all the single ladies between reasonable ages have to sign up for a draft to be an alien bride. (I can see it coming.) Cue the first lady who gets drafted. (I think the author missed out on the Uncle Sam posters that could be custom tailored for this. Really, really missed out.) She gets to go hang out with the big alien stud and if she can resist his alienly charms for a certain period then she gets to go back to Earth, without being hooked up and having to stay with the alien. I think you all can get it.
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What the hell? Did they
fall in love over hammering spikes?
Was that a double entendre?
Maybe. |
As a hack writer myself, I can appreciate a good set-up. After all, I did happen to notice that the author has about sixteen of these alien/human puppies on Amazon, and they're not short books, mind you. It's like a 160,000 words long, which is like two of my books, if I'm not being too wordy. The author practices the give-away-the-first-one cheap method, as I do myself. I'm not ashamed to say that I bought the next three before I gave up.
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I went to a flag class with my
daughter for her Girl Scout troop. The
instructor would be very
unhappy with this cover. |
I think the author put together a selection of what was selling the most lately and incorporated them into her world-building. If you threw out aliens, werebeasts, menage, and bdsm and said, "Fit that into a series," you might be scratching your butt. But not this author. Also she threw in that they're six foot six inches tall, have natural six packs, and they all have very large...appendages. Of course they do.
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I think someone was messing with
the covers ahead of me. |
Furthermore, it turns out that the alien saviors come in different types, so that the author can cover all of the bases. I shall elaborate because I would have a vein in my head explode if I didn't. There's the savage ones who happen to have an issue with a knot in their penis when they mate. They also emit a certain pheromone that makes the gals super happy, if you know what I mean. Then there's the ones who are all toothy and like to suck blood when they're having sexy times, but don't make the mistake of calling them vampires. There's also the twins. They share a mate and get this, the mate needs a special fruit that makes them very elastic down in the nether region. Guess why? Well, the twins have wee wee's that fuse together and I think you can follow the drift. Finally, (finally in my reading of four books out of the series) there's the bad alien type who is conditioned to really like Christian Grey, paddles, nipples, and all.
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I love meme generators. Pixar, this is parody so
please don't sue me. |
Anyway, I pretty much gave up after that because the plots all went like this: Her: "I hate you." Him or Hims as the case may be: "I lust for you." Her: "Don't touch me. Yes, touch me." Him: "I want to touch you. No, I can't touch you." Her: "Yes, touch me." Him: "I'll lick you." Her: "Yes, yes, yes, Meg Ryan RULES!" Him: "No, I can't." Her: "Yes, you can. Thomas the Train says you can!" Then finally, they do, and that's the end.
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How could I not include this?
Redneck Scotsmen.
Their famous last words are,
"Aye, hold my kilt and watch
this." |
I like a good romance book and I have to admire an author for throwing in everything but the kitchen sink and going for the gusto. I'm not sure I could do this. I've thought about writing more explicit romances, but I start wincing and giggling when I get into the whole cock, pussy, cunt, cum thing. I feel compelled to mention that when the author actually called a woman's natural lubrication "cunt honey" I almost threw my Kindle into the garbage.
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I think I used this one before,
but I couldn't help myself. |
Anyway, I think my IQ has dropped a few points. I need to go read a dictionary.