GUEST REVIEW: Cowboy Heat (Book 1 of the Hell Yeah! series) by Sable Hunter
When I say “romance,” it encompasses everything from preachy inspirationals to sappy historicals to M/M suspense to really kinky BDSM stuff. Haven’t yet found all of those in a single book – although one best-selling author who sometimes posts here owes me large quantities of alcohol, so maybe she’ll take a triple-dog-dare instead of paying up in booze.
I’m a professional writer, but only boring corporate stuff, so I save up all my snark for book reviews. I’m still working on finding my “voice” as a reviewer, and trying to figure out why good reviews are so much harder to writer than bad ones.
I’m always on the lookout for cheap, fun and short erotica, and this one caught my eye because it was free, it had decent ratings on Amazon and Goodreads, and the blurb was intriguing:
“Aron McCoy has sworn off women – except for sex. When Libby Fontaine arrives at Aron’s Tebow Ranch, she is determined to cram a lifetime of living into a few short months. The doctor has told her that she can’t count on her remission from leukemia being a permanent one. Their attraction to one another is instantaneous and overwhelming. But when Aron finds out that Libby is innocent – he backs off. He has nothing to offer a girl who deserves white lace and promises. Then Aron catches Libby pleasuring herself in his stock tank and hears her cry out his name – and the heat is on.”
I wasn’t expecting award-winning literature, but this is less adult erotic romance and more “middle-schoolers giggling over the dirty words.”
And the similes. MY GOD, the similes.
You’ve never seen a collection of Sex Similes like this, and you likely never will. I’m considering asking my academic adviser to approve “The Use of Religious Metaphors in Self-Published Erotica” as the topic of my poster project (just THINK of the flowchart possibilities!).
Warning: spoilers and lots of dirty words ahead!
The blurb was actually a great synopsis – think mash-up of Dying Young and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Except nobody dies, nobody sings and nobody gets kidnapped (yet – there are sequels, god help us).
Representing Dying Young, we have Libby, our 25-year-old heroine. Libby was diagnosed with a rare leukemia as a teenager, and she’s just been informed she’s finally in remission. Because her illness has left her “on an island” (one of the rare nice metaphors in the book), Libby is a very frustrated virgin who reads erotic romance novels by the hundreds.
After listening to an explanation of the difference between porn and erotica, Libby’s grandfatherly oncologist shoos her out the hospital doors with instructions to adopt hedonism and get laid. None of my doctors have ever said this, so I’m assuming this prescription is contraindicated for anxiety/depression/OCD patients.
Horny virgin? Check. Physician approval? Check. Let the games begin.
Representing Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, we have the McCoy family. Our hero is Aron, the eldest, who has been holding down the ranch with his brothers after their parents are killed.
Aron has a LOT of brothers. Unfortunately, they’re not named alphabetically like Seven Brides’ Pontipees or the Bridgertons, so it was impossible to keep them all straight. All the brothers are helpfully given a “type” to prep them as sequel bait: overlooked nice-guy, tattooed bad-boy, reckless daredevil, etc. We even have a 13-year-old with dyslexia as a plot moppet. In the end, however, these guys are pretty irrelevant, so they shall hereafter be referred to individually and collectively as Extraneous McCoy Brother(s) (EMBs).
Anyway…. In between medical treatments, Libby has learned to cook from a family friend named Bess. When Bess takes a leave of absence from her job cooking at the McCoy’s ranch, Libby and her orgasmic brownies are ready to fill in.
This is a Very Convenient Coincidence – Libby has been friends with an EMB since high school, and she’s quietly swooned for Aron the Eldest for years. She even went to all his high school football games and rodeos, and if that doesn’t prove Unrequited Love in Texas, I don’t know what does.
Decision time: Should I keep reading?
This premise actually might have worked; the set-up in the first few pages was amusing enough to keep me reading. But once Libby and Aron got their eyes and hands on each other, it quickly went downhill and stayed there.
I came very, very close to DNFing because the inconsistent heroine, asshole hero and random point-of-view changes were amateurish, and the laughable sex and dialogue were sometimes painfully immature.
Did I mention the Sex Similes? My GOD, the similes. [see below]
But I sucked it up and fast-forwarded to the end to satisfy my curiosity about how ridiculous the plot crisis and HEA would be. It was everything I expected, and not in a good way.
To demonstrate, let’s meet our heroine. Libby has been fighting cancer for years, and yet “her midnight black hair hung to her waist in thick, spiral curls.” She must have the fastest-growing – or most chemotherapy-proof – hair in Texas. But that’s Pageant Country, so maybe there’s something in the water.
You’ll be glad to know that extensive chemo and radiation can also give you a heart-shaped little butt, bouncy melon boobs AND magnetic nipples (don’t ask).
Sheltered Horny Virgin + Erotica = ???
On her first night living at the ranch, our sheltered heroine is all hot and bothered after the hero dumps her because she’s a virgin (see below), so she decides to swim in the stock tank. Her lack of appropriate swimming attire isn’t a problem; from her erotica reading, Libby learned that being a Sheltered Horny Virgin makes you invisible, so she doesn’t hesitate to get nekkid in full view of the umpteen EMBs inside the house.
Our hero, of course, is perving unnoticed in the barn/studio:
“It appeared that she was trying to figure out how to climb into the tank. There was a ladder about twenty feet to the left of her, but if he called out that information he would give himself away and she would vanish from his sight like a frightened fairy. She placed her hands on the rim of the tank and tried to pull her little self up and over. Partially successful, she managed to get her incredible ass elevated so that he could see a sweet little crack and past that – paradise.”
Libby finally finds the damn ladder and frolics [yes, really] in the water for a while, then gets down to business. She somehow manages to masturbate to noisy orgasm, yelling out our hero’s name in full sentences while back-floating and hanging onto the edge of the tank.
She is adept at such masturbation because of all the erotica-reading. Libby’s erotic novels are like naughty After School Specials, because they all have Very Important Lessons; in addition to self-pleasure, Libby displays her knowledge of tongue-sucking during her first grown-up kiss, and even uses cucumbers for blow-job practice [I’m assuming the hospital cafeteria was all out of bananas]. She’s a VERY enthusiastic and dedicated erotica reader.
And yet when The Big Moment nears, Libby suddenly becomes the wide-eyed innocent, asking:
“Is being a woman’s first lover more trouble than it’s worth? Is it not pleasurable for a man?” Her innocence humbled him. Before he could reassure her, she continued, “Would it be better for you if I found someone in town to – deflower me?”
She used the word “deflower,” and yet I kept reading
During the actual deflowering, she tries to suppress her second orgasm (the first was oral) until Aron can join her:
“’Aron, no. I don’t want to come, yet. I want to wait until you’re inside me. I want to wait for you.’ She tried, in vain, to hold off the impending climax. ‘I’m going to use up all my orgasms.’ She truly seemed dismayed.”
A limit of two orgasms per sexual encounter? This poor girl needs better erotica.
A few days later, after she acclimates herself to multiple orgasms, she becomes concerned about the wetness she feels down there :
“’Wait, sweetie. I’m already wet. Let me change and put on something clean. You don’t want to get my stuff all over your leg.’ She got up off the bed and went to dig in the drawer where he put her underwear. His mouth dropped. Was she serious?
‘Come back here, Libby Lou.’ She stopped to see what was wrong. ‘Pull off your panties, baby. I want to feel all of you – wet and wild – right against my skin. Your dripping little pussy is a badge of honor for me; it’s my way of knowing that I’m doing something right.’ He held out his hand to her.
‘Are you sure?’ She was serious.”
Libby, honey, he went down on you before you were even deflowered. Don’t worry, maybe “Moistness down there is Your Man’s Badge of Honor” will be the Very Important Lesson in your next erotic romance.
Other things you should know about our heroine:
- Her favorite interjection is “Cheez-n-Crackers!” [spelled and capitalized exactly like that]
- She has a remarkable ability to speak in full sentences during orgasm.
- She can suck her own nipples while riding a horse.
- She mixes up the words “teats” and “tits” while milking a cow.
- She prefers wieners to live bait.
Now let’s get a closer look at our hero, Aron. He’s not just a rancher, he’s also a sculptor. This makes Aron a Sensitive Artist Cowboy Alpha Male, which means that, by the rules established in the Romance Tropes Act of 1978, his patronizing bullshit is really romance in disguise.
Aron has (starting from the top):
- Crisp dark hair;
- Lapis lazuli eyes;
- A heavy five-o’clock shadow;
- Shoulders as wide as a John Deere tractor [I’m assuming this is referring to a corn-harvesting combine and not a riding lawn mower];
- Little round brown nipples; AND
- Tree-trunk thighs.
ALSO: A ginormous, frequently turgid cock named Johnson. But you probably knew that already.
Buckets of alpha male goodness, condensed into one convenient scene. We really, and I mean REALLY, get to know our hero the first night he meets Libby. I have to use a timeline for this – the chronology is important because it Just. Keeps. Getting. Better.
The scene: Aron enters the kitchen to find Libby and all the EMBs chatting about food and whatnot. Libby is facing away from Aron, while his brothers are facing towards him.
NOTE: This positioning is vital to what happens next.
(1) Before she even turns around to see him, Libby gets all spine-chilly and toe-tingly because Aron is Bringing The Heat.
(2) When she turns halfway around (the full frontal will come later), Aron gets (you guessed it) an instant hard-on (“Lord Have Mercy!”).
(3) The “Raw Honey” double-entendre on Libby’s tight t-shirt starts him fantasizing about the “taste of her cream” and he wants to see if he can fit his hands around her tiny little waist.
(4) Her bouncing boobs almost bring tears to his eyes. He somehow manages to suppress the urge to “catch those sweet little tits before she hurt herself.” He knows the boobs are real because they jiggle and wave.
Keep in mind that she’s only half-turned towards him at this point.
(5) Aron cleverly attempts to hide his ginormous erection by hiding it with his Stetson. This smooth move is noticed and smirked over by an EMB. Aron flips off the EMB.
(6) This has to be a full quote because I can’t make this shit up:
“Watching his brothers surround the tempting little morsel, Aron opted to utilize a tactic that had come in handy when the McCoy’s [sic] would be out carousing pre-Sabrina [the Wicked Ex-Wife]. They had tried to avoid stepping on one another’s toes, romantically speaking. Whenever one would see a little filly that caught his eye, he would look at her and simply say one word that would alert the others that she had been claimed and was strictly off-limits to the rest of the McCoys [no apostrophe this time]. Stepping closer to the table, he loudly proclaimed, Tag!”
Classy, huh? Let me go fan myself for a moment.
(7) Now we get the full-frontal: “Turn around, baby. Let me see your face.” Please note this is AFTER he’s mentally tasted her cream, been struck blind by her boobs and tagged her like a prize heifer. Aron visually caresses Libby’s perfect eyes, perfect nose, perfect cheekbones, blah, blah, blah.
(8) Aron is now desperate to touch Libby, because “a handshake would be much too mundane to satisfy this particular need.” So, in retaliation for his still-Stetson-hidden erection, Aron gets Libby pre-orgasmic with some wrist-fondling. This is also observed by all the EMBs.
(9) When they finally sit down at the dinner table to eat Libby’s magnificent lasagna and garlic bread, the EMBs are bamboozled [no, really] by their celibate-since-divorce brother ogling their new employee:
“He was eating Libby up with his eyes, as if she was a lioness in heat and he was the predatory head of the pride, the only male allowed to mate.”
Not to ignore the lioness-in-heat-at-the-dinner-table squickiness, but this analogy isn’t even true. Wikipedia says female lions can mate with several males, and because the lionesses are the hunters of a pride, Aron wouldn’t be a predator, he’d be a protector. But I digress….
(10) At no point during this prolonged eye-fucking has our hero formally introduced himself. He now takes the opportunity by identifying himself as “the eldest of these useless rascals.” Yes, he actually calls the EMBs “rascals.”
(11) When Libby points out that she’s known him for years, our hero responds with the ever-so-classy, “Why don’t I remember you?”
(12) While contemplating her overlooked cute-as-a-buttonness, he dumps a boatload of food on her plate and says “There you go, sweetie, eat up.” Libby quickly discerns that this Aron’s way of ensuring her well-being.
(13) After some (finally) innocuous small talk, Aron’s monster boner revives when Libby says, “I hope you’ll be pleased with my performance.” [Cue Beavis and Butthead laugh]
(14) Libby shares her Make-A-Wish® desire to ride a horse, rope a calf and help with branding, and, of course, the EMBs are eager to help. Aron the Eldest is displeased because his “TAG!” claim obviously didn’t stick:
“’Hey!’ Aron quelled the racket. When all was quiet, he simply stated. ‘Whatever Libby wants to learn, I’ll be the one teaching her.’ At Libby’s confused look, he tapped her on the end of the nose and smiled another one of those ten thousand watt scorchers.”
Remember, Libby is a Sheltered Virgin and Aron is a Sensitive Artist Cowboy Alpha Male, so condescending nose-tweaks are an appropriate way for Aron to establish his paternalistic dominance.
(15) While Libby explains her friendship with the McCoy’s former cook Bess, Aron feels her up under the table. I forgot to mention that the 13-year-old plot moppet is sitting on Libby’s other side during all of this.
(16) Get ready – this one is even better than the “TAG!” thing:
“’I’m grateful to Bess for bringing you to me.’ Aron’s softly whispered words flowed straight to her breasts. Instantly, her nipples swelled and hardened. Before she realized it, they were eagerly protruding, and the thin little t-shirt was an insufficient barrier from prying eyes. Seeing the effect his words had on her, Aron instantly excused himself and in a moment returned with one of his shirts from the laundry room. Draping it over her shoulders, he whispered, ‘Slip this on, sweetheart.’ He winked at her as she flushed as much from arousal as embarrassment. ‘I’ll take care of you, baby.’
It had gotten quiet at the table. ‘What?’ Aron challenged. ‘Libby was cold.’”
That’s so romantic I think I’m going to barf. I’ll ignore the mid-paragraph POV change for now.
(17) After dinner, Aron gets all swoony when Libby tells him she left a Personal Package of Orgasmic Brownies in his office. Aron doesn’t like to share *anything* with the EMBs.
(18) Aron and Libby manage to clean up and start the dishwasher before the “lust-shock” sets in again.
(19) When Aron leans forward to kiss her, he causes Libby to have a total eclipse of the heart (see below).
(20) Before tongues touch, Libby is “a little minx.” After tongue-mashing, our hero raises her status to “a little stick of dynamite.” Libby mentally thanks her erotic romance novels.
(21) Unfortunately, Libby didn’t learn other Very Important Erotica Lessons, because she reveals during a post-kiss sigh that she’s a Virgin.
Prepare yourself, and don’t say I didn’t warn you:
“’Damn.’ Aron backed off, even more. She reached to pull him back, but he evaded her touch. Embarrassed, Libby let her hands drop. ‘I don’t do innocents, love. I refuse to be the one to besmirch your virtue.’”
Yes, he actually says “besmirch your virtue.” I’ll wait while you recover.
(22) Libby (believe it or not) attempts to call him out that bullshit, but instead of smacking him upside the head, she goes all Passive-Aggressive Virginal Heroine and asks (you guessed it), “What if I want to be besmirched?”Aron, our Sensitive Artist Cowboy, turns and walks away.
Other things you should know about our hero:
- He’s not just an artistic cowboy, he’s a God-fearing one. We know this because his favorite interjection is “Lord Have Mercy!” [capitalized and punctuated exactly like that].
- He has a private investigator on retainer for “various things.”
- He has a remarkable ability to make up childish pet names on the fly, such as Lil’ Lib, Libtastic, Libbykins and Libalicious.
- He has no gay friends. We know this because he uses words like “glory-hole” and “fisting” to mentally describe vaginal sex.
THE DEFLOWERING SCENE….
So now we’re past the dumping-the-virgin and masturbating-in-the-stock-tank nonsense and getting to the good stuff.
Let’s start with a few teasers:
“Before she knew what to expect, he had slid down her body, kissing her navel. There, he stopped to minister to the tiny well; afraid it would feel left out on his epic journey.”
…I never knew my belly-button could feel emotions like envy. Cool.
“He lapped at her cream like a happy tomcat.”
…Does Paypal’s no-bestiality rule include similes?
“Hot waves of joy rained down upon her, searing her with bolts of white-hot electricity.”
…That sentence just makes my head hurt.
“She placed her hands on the lapels of his shirt and pulled hard and it parted as easily as if she had said ‘Open Sesame.’”
…Gotta love those snap-up Western shirts.
“This was a whole different ballgame. Libby wasn’t just participating; she was recruiting, coaching and leading the cheers.”
…And we haven’t even gotten to the Extended Sex-As-Sport Metaphor yet! (see below)
“Latching on to one nipple, he gloried in her response as she rode his hand to nirvana.”
…Cue “Smells Like Teen Spirit” background music. And what if he’d been able to latch on to TWO nipples? Where would she go then? Disney World?
“’Roll over,’ she demanded. How could she have forgotten this? It would be like going to Florida and missing Disneyworld.”
…In reference to her long-awaited opportunity to administer a blow job on a real penis and not just a cucumber. And I guess that answers my previous question.
“His penis was engorged with passion and anxious to enter the Promised Land.”
…But can it part the Red Sea to get there???
“I want to see your joystick.”
…I didn’t know they had videogames in the Promised Land.
“Here he was, hard as a rock, and she was gallivanting around like a butterfly.”
…Gallivanting is a good word. I should use that word more often.
“When she had him down to his shorts, she sat up beside him like it was Christmas morning and she was waiting to open a gift under the tree.”
…Cue Dick in a Box video.
“Any other time he would have been gung-ho for her enthusiasm, but right now he was about to go all Mount St. Helens on her.”
…Um, Mount St. Helens spewed ash, not lava.
Let’s all take a deep, cleansing breath before we continue, because…
IT’S KICK-OFF TIME!
“’No more teasing, love – or the game is going to be over before the quarterback even gets onto the field.’ Spreading her thighs, he maneuvered himself over her.”
‘Are you heading into the end zone? She asked with a straight face as he pressed the blunt end of his dick at her tender opening….”
…So does that mean the other end of his dick is the sharp end? He’s very considerate of her tender opening.
“’Going for a touchdown,’ he grinned as he pressed forward a half-inch. Suddenly, the sensation overwhelmed him. He hadn’t ridden bareback since Sabrina. She hadn’t wanted to feel his naked cock inside of her; she said she couldn’t stand the feel of his slimy sperm as it gushed inside of her body. He couldn’t imagine Libby ever saying anything like that. Sweet Jesus! Ecstasy! She was warm, wet, silky, tight, and as soft as the inside of a cream puff. ‘I’ll never last,’ he moaned.”
…Read that last paragraph again – mind-boggling, isn’t it? Fortunately, our hero does have the required stamina, enough for a page and a half of pumping and milking and grunting and moaning before we resume the Simile Sex:
“’I like you, Aron McCoy,’ she exhaled in a rush, another orgasm barreling down on her like a freight train….
‘Come on, baby, that’s the touchdown – let’s go for the extra point.’ He urged her on, gyrating his hips, nudging her cervix with the sensitive end of his dick. “
…Quick question: If the blunt end of his dick is also the sensitive end, does that make the sharp end insensitive? I’m confused.
“The sound of his balls slapping on her rear end in a jungle beat only spurred him to increase his driving speed.”
…That last sentence was sexy, huh? Thanks to our hero’s heroic staying power, we can endure a little more incoherent pleasure, yada, yada, yada….
“He mindlessly thrust into her creamy depths, her little body a welcoming port to his marauding demand.”
…So I guess his football team is the Buccaneers? He may be marauding her velvet channel, but at least he’s using a blunt sword.
“Flashing, crashing bombardments of ecstasy pummeled into him with a fiery culmination…. He cried out his deliverance as great jets of cum shot deep within her and she kept milking him, her body begging for more.”
…”Deliverance” wouldn’t have been my first choice of word for a cum shot.
“At last, in absolute contentment, he stretched out over her, covering her, claiming her.”
…That’ll cost him a 15-yard penalty for excessive end-zone celebration.
If I were the coach, I would have called for a two-point conversion instead of the extra point. Then again, he could always try for a field goal in the second half if the score is tied.
To recap (think slo-mo replay with color commentary):
We have the overall football theme, interspersed with:
- Dairy farming (milking);
- Rodeo (bareback, spurs);
- Baked good (cream puffs);
- Transportation (freight train);
- World music (jungle beat);
- Auto racing (driving speed);
- Piracy (welcoming port, marauding);
- Porn (cum shots); AND
- The afterlife (deliverance, fiery culmination).
I’m exhausted just reading that, and I don’t even have cancer.
BUT WAIT – THERE’S MORE!
Now we’re at the end of Chapter Two (!) and it doesn’t get any better….
Libby gets thrown from a horse AND gets into a bar fight with Sabrina the Evil Ex-Wife (“You’re going down, you loud-mouthed Jezebel!”) Unfortunately these events do not occur simultaneously, that would have been AWESOME.
There’s some drama about Aron’s first horse sculpture and a Family Crisis.
And, of course, we have the Magical Orgasm Cure for cancer. I won’t even mention the “why am I puking in the morning?” thing.
As if all that wasn’t enough, the dorky Texas slang, purple prose, bad similes and mixed metaphors continue to fly fast and free.
- “When he lowered his head to capture her lips, he blocked out all the light. She welcomed the darkness; it was momentous, like the total eclipse of the sun.”
- “Her smile lit up his world. His body began to instantly heat as if it had been graced by the warmth of the rising sun. Aron tried to move forward, he was frozen; immobilized, entranced.”
- “She sucked on his neck like she was auditioning for Twilight.”
- “Moonlight gave the pale skin of her arms and legs an iridescent quality. She could have been a wood nymph come out to play.”
- “He would kiss her over and over and then, he would allow his steel-hard cock to sink into the rich velvet of her womanhood.”
- “Twin globes of perfection hung down like the most delicious melons. Sweet Jesus! Honey-dews!” [No, I did not make that up.]
- “Aron had never been privileged to suckle on nipples as large as hers [Libby’s]. Sabrina’s nipples had been stingy, just like the rest of her.”
- “…he longed to rub on them like Aladdin’s lamp….”
- “God, he would suck and slurp, devouring all of that precious womanly flesh like a starving man presented with a T-bone steak.”
- “Aron’s hand kept up with her erotic dance, his own level of excitement reaching plateaus that he had rarely ever scaled.”
- “As she swan-dived off the cliff of rapture, Libby wondered how in God’s name would she ever live a day without him.”
- “Libby took his penis in her hands, as if she were about to say a prayer….”
- “She opened herself up to him and provided him a place to play.”
- “Bellowing aloud, he shot his essence down her throat and she accepted it like she was born to it.”
- “…her incredible breasts were scrubbing up and down on his chest revving his engines to the highest gear.”
- “’You’re too precious to risk on a real horse, so I’ll just let you ride my rocking horse.’ If it hadn’t felt so good, she would have laughed at him, but her clit was having a party on his pelvic bone as she rode herself to heaven and back.” [Nope, didn’t make that one up either.]
- “…he could ram upward, letting his cock torpedo into her lush haven with staccato like strokes.”
- “…those talented hands were shaping and kneading her breasts as if they were molding clay and he was creating a masterpiece.”
- “…her vagina was opening like a night blooming flower, offering his manhood a good time and close quarters.”
- “Sinking his teeth in to her neck, he held her still like a stallion would a mare.”
- “…he manipulated her breasts into trembling mounds of passion.”
- “…his penis rose up, seeking her heat like a moth to a flame. She opened to him, her vulva swollen and flushed a deep rose. With a moan of relief, her body stretched to received full length and breadth of his pulsating staff.”
- “Her cream was anointing his cock, proclaiming a desperate need for his brand of possession.”
- “Aron became a mad man; his hips pistoning in and out of her like an out of control jackhammer.”
That gets us halfway through the book. No lie.
Just for fun, I tried to do a search on my Kindle for the word “like.” My Kindle is still trying to recover, hiding in the corner and whimpering in fear like a puppy who piddled on the carpet awaiting the smack of a newspaper.
Saving two of the best for last:
These are cringe-worthy, so again you’ve been warned….
“Freeing his enormous cock from his jeans, he gave it room to stretch and bob like a hungry python seeking a meal. There was no way in hell that he was going to be able to stay away from her. She was the most tempting, succulent goddess he had ever been privileged to pay homage to.”
Hmmm – a hungry python paying homage to succulent boobs, what a lovely mental picture. Pythons squeeze their prey to death, so I guess if Aron the Cowboy Artist sculpted this, it would be like some kind of reptilian BDSM ropework?
And I don’t think pythons “bob and stretch,” but I’m kind of relieved his dick wasn’t a cobra, because I’d hate for it to be cooped up inside one of those baskets.
“Your kisses are sweeter than Mounds candy.” [Take a WILD guess where this is heading…]
‘Hey, if we’re talking candy bars – I’d rather be an Almond Joy instead of Mounds.” Shit! He enjoyed picking at her; she was more fun than a barrel of monkeys.
“What’s the deal?” she played back. “They’re both coconut?”
“Yeah,” he said as he nipped her chin.” But, Almond Joys got nuts, Mounds don’t.” She squealed as he pinched her on the butt cheek. “And if you’ll slip your little hand between my legs, I’ll prove to you which category I fall into.”
My first thought was “I’ll bet that tagline is trademarked, so that’s a copyright violation.”
Then I thought, “Candy bars, shit and monkeys during foreplay. That’s a combination you don’t see every day.”
MY GEEKY EDITING PET PEEVES….
The editing and formatting of this self-pub was barely tolerable. Just because you don’t have a professional editor doesn’t give you an excuse to be lazy.
A few tips for any aspiring self-published author:
- Point of view should not change in the middle of a paragraph.
- Breaks or indents between paragraphs are a good thing. Random capitalization and punctuation are not.
- Apostrophes are used for contractions and indicating possession, not plurals. THERE ARE RULES. LEARN THEM.
- The word “slurp” is not, and never will be, romantic.
- Only preschoolers should wear “panties.” Someone, anyone, for the LOVE OF GOD, find a better word.
I have more, but you’ll have to pay me cash money to hear them.
NOW LET ME TELL YOU WHAT I *REALLY* THINK….
This would have been an F, but it was redeemed by a truly funny jail scene and a nice moment between Libby and one of the EMBs towards the end. The bicep cannons on the Cover Cowboy cancel out the creepy religious sexual metaphors.
It’s now back to the regular price of $4.99 (still free in the Kindle Lending Library), and it’s going on my “Thank God It Was Free” shelf.
The sequels are free in the Kindle Lending Library, so I girded my loins and downloaded Book 2. Hot on Her Trail showcases a homeless orphaned dyslexic pregnant virgin hiding out the EMBs’ barn to escape her bipolar stalker/serial killer. This heroine also swims naked in the stock tank, and we know how well THAT works out. This sequel was equally bad, but in different ways – and instead of making me laugh, it PISSED ME OFF. But that’s another review.
Books 3 and 4 feature wheelchair sex and a preacher’s daughter gallivanting (see what I did there?) in a Nevada cathouse. Book 5 will likely include a blind nun being trampled by stampeding livestock. God only knows what will happen to the poor plot moppet.
I’m not sure if I should be intrigued or scared. My Kindle will never forgive me. Wish me luck.
Editor’s note from Jane. I don’t mind the word “panties” but Kelly failed to mention that this book takes place on TEBOW Ranch. Sweet Jesus Honey Dews. I demand you all use that in your vocabulary from now on.
This beauty is only on sale at Amazon as the author is participating in the Kindle Owner’s Lending Library which makes the book exclusive to Amazon. It is free to Kindle Prime members.