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REVIEW: Knight Moves by Jamaica Layne

Note: In order to express my full opinion, I will need to share spoilers.   So beware.  

Dear Ms. Layne:

knight_moves_496b826d62db0When Ravenous Romance first appeared on my radar, I blogged about it and you were quick to come to inform us readers that this new epress would “blow the competition out the water from very early on.”   Given that you were also elevated from writer to editor in a short time, I thought it might be worthwhile to see exactly what was the force behind all the eruption.   Knight Moves is a time traveling story featuring New Jersey toll booth supervisor,  Louise Jackson, and the time traveling knight,  Lord Verdigris.   

For her birthday, Louise Jackson is dragged to  Medieval Worlds: Dinner and Tournament by her best friend.   Deciding the wait for the woman’s bathroom is too long, Louise slips into the men’s room in hopes of relieving herself quickly.   There she is assailed by the stench of the men’s room and the sight of the gorgeous man at the urinal:

And the sight of the huge cock the knight is holding in his right hand as he shakes  off the last few drops of pee is even more dazzling.

The sight is so dazzling that Loiuse’s pee dries up and is replaced with moist desire.  

I don’t need to pee any more. Now I just need to get laid.

The knight gives me a knowing smile, and jiggles his giant cock in my direction.   "You look like a fair maiden in need of a good visit from the codpiece," he says.

Frankly, I don’t know of any visual more attractive or seductive than a guy dressed like a knight in a tacky dinner theatre waving his post pee schwizzle stick around.   Louise is clearly a woman of discerning taste.   She also is one who doesn’t worry about any kind of hygiene issues because she is not at all concerned when pee shaking man hands grab her and whisk her to the last stall in the bathroom that turns out to be, yes, a time traveling portal.   Oh, if Bill and Ted only knew that the phone booth wasn’t the only way to break through the space time continuum.

Louise is barely phased  (or fazed) by the travel from the filthy men’s urinal where she was ready to “take a ride on a knight’s codpiece” to the knight’s castle.   She is ready for the knight of no name “to  fuck [her] brains  out.”   

I don’t even know what century I’m in right now. And I don’t care. All I care  about is getting Gorgeous Mystery Knight’s giant codpiece up my twat in a hurry.

The knight who has yet to wash his hands whisks her upstairs to engage in coitus of a very romantic and sexy nature. I quote the liberally from the first sex scene to give the proper flavor:

Another couple flicks of my knight’s supple wrists, and I find myself naked and  thrown headfirst over the wooden bench, my ass sticking straight up in the air. Gorgeous  Knight, fully clothed, spreads my butt cheeks wide, whips his giant cock out of his  breeches, and takes me from behind.

We continue to fuck doggy-style over the bench for several minutes. . . .  I buck up against him hard mid-thrust, tipping him off  balance. Once he’s lost his footing, I pull myself off his cock – my cunt makes a  disappointed queeb sound as we separate…I come two more times when I  spin myself around and around on his cock like a top, and take the last few strokes down  from the rear.

Excuse me while I insert a crude joke here.   You are blowing something out of the water, but I’m not certain it’s your competition.   Back to the story.   After the aforementioned erotic sex scene (and by erotic, I mean sex so terrible that even the idea of my parents’ coupling is preferable to revisiting this), we are treated to some post coital love talk:

  

"Everything you see and feel is real, milady," my knight says, caressing my bare  back with his hands. "That, I promise you. If you desire proof, you only need consider  the three very real climaxes you just had in your lady-softness."

My eyes fly wide. "How did you know I came three times?"

He grins wider. "Your lady-softness told me herself when she was wrapped  round my codpiece."

  

Mystery knight, however, is not entranced by Louise’s lady softness for long because he soon escorts her to the Hall of Harlots where he keeps the women that he’s captured from all over the world, through many centuries.   Even though Louise is initially shocked at being stuck in the Hall of Harlots, she is reassured by Lord Verdigris, Master of the Hourglass, that being a whore for him and his knights is really an honor.   She’ll be well cared for and reside in luxury and in exchange, she just needs to open her legs to whomever desires her to do so.

Update: Someone asked me if there was a plot to the story and there is. Lord Verdigris is not the nicest guy and Louise, with the help of one particular lover from the Regency period and another knight with vengeance quest against Verdigris, challenge Lord Verdigris’ hold over the captives of his court.

Louise is a plucky heroine and decides that she’ll be the very best harlot in the Hall of Harlots despite Lord Verdigris having   ”tasted the pleasures of harlots and courtesans from every age in the  Known World’s history, from ancient Greece and Rome to the Renaissance to the farflung  future.”   Somehow, despite Lord Verdigris’ vast experience and extensive travel, Louise manages to come up with a sexual expertise that Lord Verdigris has never experienced.   Louise becomes a dom for Verdigris and all his knights and becomes the court favorite despite having over seven hundred “competitors” based on techniques that she remembered from the Story of O.      Her ability to wield a paddle on the “Cross of Satisfaction” is unparalleled and soon, Lord Verdigris is beckoning her:

And "tis time for us to partake of Pleasure’s fruit again, milady. My codpiece has desired your lady-softness all day long."

Which is good, because then we get to find out that he sweats buckets of happy juice:

His erection is enormous – pointing at an almost 90-degree angle up towards his chin – and his glans is sweating buckets of happy juice.

These are two big secreters.   Her crotch turns to cream  (“turning my crotch to cream”), she leaves a trail of juice down his chest (“I slide down his chest, leaving a trail of  my nectar on his skin”), her vulva is liquified (“my vulva is sweating a sea of slick salt water”); her, well, ladysoftness is “wet, dripping.”   Besides the overwhelming amount of fluid expulsion there was also the outsized genitals.     His was ten inches and her clit was so large that, well, let me just quote it:

  

The walls of my vag vibrate and pulse at warp speed, and my labia  are so swollen, they pound out a drumbeat as they slap up and down against the length of  Lord Verdigris’ cock.  

  

I’m not sure what I found most far fetched in this story.   Was it the instant acceptance that Louise had of being swept through the urinal time traveling portal?   Was it ease at which Louise decides being a whore is something to embrace?   Was it the ridiculous love scenes that included “queebs”, references to “lady softness”, “lady fingers”, her “volcanic crotch”?   Was it the fact that there was some weird editing glitch wherein Chapter Five included the words “Page Break” at the top.   It could have been the fact that her hoo haa was so powerful it could make people immortal.   Perhaps it was the scintillating dialogue that include, “‘Unnnnnnuuuuuhhhhh,’ I moan, completely losing control. I come so hard, I see  stars.”   Or perhaps it was the casual declaration of lesbian love that she embraces at the Harlot’s Hall when she gets her first fisting treatment.   

  

I’m suddenly beginning to appreciate the saying, "once you’ve gone lesbo, you  never go back." . . .  Just when I think it can’t get any more intense, Mabel plunges her arm into me  well past her wrist….I’ve got ladyfingers stuck up both ends. And I’m loving it.

  

She turns her back on the lesbian love when she finds out its all a plot to reduce her position from Lord Verdigris’ favorite.   

Or was it the finale where Lord Verdigris and Louise engage gangsters in Philly in a “yo momma” challenge where the dialogue is vaguely insulting to the people of color.   It’s hard to say.   

"As a matter of fact we do," I say. "My friend over here" – I point at Lord  Verdigris – "is from Philadelphia, and he and I have a bet to settle before we scope out  any property for Mr. Trump. And I’ve decided that we’ll settle the bet with a game of  Yo’ Mama. Winner takes all. I need some street-smart guys to judge the game. Y’all up  for that?"

The gangbangers laugh, slap hands, and nod. "Hell, yeah," says their leader.

"We always got time for a game o’ Yo’ Mama. Which one o’ y’all gonna start?"

  

Lord Verdigris holds up his hand. "I require no explanation, Lady Louisa. We  play a version of this game in my own time. The game "tis as ancient as the Romans."

The gangbangers stare at him. "Damn, dat dude talk funny," one of them says.

"He don’t sound like he from no Philly, neither," another says.

  

If this is not the worst book I’ve read, it comes close.   I’m actually not sorry I bought it.   I now know what being blown out of the water feels like and can be prepared the next time someone makes a claim about their work in such a way.   F.

Best regards,

Jane

I encourage everyone to buy this e-book at Ravenous Romance at the low price of $4.99. I’ve left out some choice group scenes and the “Yo Mama” fight between Lord Verdigris and Louise. You know you want to read it.

Jane Litte is the founder of Dear Author, a lawyer, and a lover of pencil skirts. She spends her downtime reading romances and writing about them. Her TBR pile is much larger than the one shown in the picture and not as pretty. You can reach Jane by email at jane @ dearauthor dot com

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