Just plowed this intense and cool story of Jinx and Toombs!!! Itʻs now 6:37am and I have to catch a few hours sleep before work. I loved the human insights, the rip your – face – off intensity of Toombs, who could put more meaning into a barely raised brow than most men can with a Shakespearean soliloquy… Iʻm mad for this book in the best possible way. Kendall gave it to me raw and I fucking loved every minute of it!!! Iʻll write more of an actual review later, I’ve gota crash right now, lusting after Toombs but oddly sated ;P
I like Jinx, she is the opposite of Letty, her band mate, in many ways. Where Letty is brash and bluster, Jinx is reserved and thoughtful of everything going on around her. She may not light up a room like Letty but her slow burn intensity and laser like focus on what she wants, Toombs and the great back beats of the upcoming album, make her a show stopper nonetheless. She cares about her friends, her family and herself. She goes after what she wants with determination but doesn’t destroy everyone and everything to get where she wants to be. I love this book the best of the 3 but it’s my Toombs bias and also the fact that I read this one first as it was gifted to me for my birthday. I have recommended it to co workers (at the library) and have gifted the series to six friends so far. It is not everyone’s shot of absinthe with a double vodka chaser. The warnings placed at the start of each book in this series are legit and not just to garner attention. If you have to check urban dictionary for some of the acronyms mentioned in the warning disclaimer then you should probably stay away from this series, it is hard core, it is niche, and filthy good writing. There is a lot of erotica on Amazon, much of it not worth the the time and effort of the whispernet delivery. The Hard Rock Harlots series gives it to you with both barrels and doesn’t relent, makes no quibbling apologies for its rawness, and has its readers in thrall forevermore because of this ballsiness. Long live The Rock, those who make it, those who love it, and those who live and die for it.
I hate Rax Wrathbone. If I was to meet him I would punch him in the throat and then in the cock. I would probably kick him a few times as he hit the ground. Having said that, I love this book, this series, this author. I would recommend this series and have recommended it to co workers (at the library) and have gifted the series to six friends so far. It is not everyone’s shot of absinthe with a vodka double chaser. The warnings placed at the start of each book in this series are legit and not just to garner attention. If you have to check urban dictionary for some of the acronyms mentioned in the warning disclaimer then you should probably stay away from this series, it is hard core, it is niche, and filthy good writing. There is a lot of erotica on Amazon, much of it not worth the the time and effort of the whispernet delivery. Hard Rock Harlots series delivers believable characters, steamy hot sex scenes that will melt your kindle, hot book boyfriends you wish were real, sexy and strong women who may not be perfect but make the best of what they are and do so without apology. If you are not into the rock and roll lifestyle and all the debauchery it entails then this series is not for you. If you love your fictional sex kinkier than a cheap garden hose then this series with its memorable characters, emulatory sex scenes, and heartbreakingly good plotlines then Strings, Beats, and Nocturnes are for you. You may like Rax the main man of Nocturnes. I don’t, but if he could take a couple of (deserved) hits from me for being a less than savoury character then I would shake his hand and take him to the pub. I would end up dancing on the table with his hot girlfriend, Eve, and all would be right with the world.
grouse! Gifted it to six mates at the start of Dec 2013 (to coincide with the Nocturnes release date)
I love strong women who may not have all the answers and get kicked in the teeth by life more than once but pull themselves up by their bootstraps and soldier on. Let’s face it, life is pretty much a gutpunch for most people, most of the time. The little things must be made sacred, the only glue that holds our souls together sometimes is formed of small opportunities. Letty Dillinger, main moll of this novel, tries to embrace the small moments when they present themselves. She is funny, a great friend, sexy, loyal, strong, and honest. I would definitely go out drinking with her to see what kind of crazy adventures we could have. I love this book, this series, this author. I have recommended it to co workers (at the library) and have gifted the series to six friends so far. It is not everyone’s shot of absinthe with a double vodka chaser. The warnings placed at the start of each book in this series are legit and not just to garner attention. If you have to check urban dictionary for some of the acronyms mentioned in the warning disclaimer then you should probably stay away from this series, it is hard core, it is niche, and filthy good writing. There is a lot of erotica on Amazon, much of it not worth the the time and effort of the whispernet delivery. This series delivers on plot, characters, and dirty, hot sex scenes. The Hard Rock Harlots series is not for the faint of heart or those who want to judge the choices that others make and can live with. It is an intense, pornagraphically intimate view of life on the road in a band in your carefree, hedonistic, twenties. And thank the rock gods for that!
Soooo it’s been a below average week. Working heaps and not writing much (anything) is bad. The lack of productivity is compounded by a death in the family. Well not my legit blood related family. Just the family that counts, the family that whangaied me (adopt/foster) when I was a pre teen.
So I’ve held it together okay. I don’t really cry much even when everything is agony and razor blades. However, I thought it would be prudent for my mental health to get on the vodka and go dancing. Just at the pub up the road. I ended up going by myself. This is not a bad thing. Most of my adventures are solo. I hit the birthday vodka (copper distilled barley goodness from London), put on some tunes and got ready (see selfie). I trotted down the road to the Commercial where Saturday night is always a party and the most glamazon molls on the dancefloor are gender bending and fabulous. I danced to Snoop Dogg, Maroon 5, Beyonce, Fatman Scoop and all sorts of trashy pop/rap/r&b…
I was also propositioned by a fulla who wanted to first buy me a drink (I politely declined as I had drunk 3 double Grey Gooses in 1 hour). I spoke with him briefly when he came back to tell me there was no bar person available. I told him to seek assistance from a member of the security team and went back to my Facebook shenanigans. He got served and came and sat near me and I heard a good hook and absented myself for the dance floor. I had another great boogie and when I paused for a drink break he came up to me again and asked if I had a boyfriend. My quizzical reply was “What would I need one of those for?” Bear in mind I was three and a half sheets to the wind by this stage (past 2:30am). He then asked for my number. I said, “Why would you want my number when you haven’t even asked for my name?” He proceeded to tell me his name and asked for mine. I told him and then bumped knuckles with him. He then asked me for my number again. I had to thank him for his interest but inform him that I was not at the pub for that reason. Hence why I had picked a tranny bar. He looked at me as though I had lost my mind. I then informed him that my foster mother had passed away during the week and I was at the pub to get drunk and dance. Finito. Thank you for asking me. Don’t take this the wrong way, however I am not here for that. I smiled politely the whole time. The last time I smiled this much was during a job interview. Do cis gendered het males really think women go to gay clubs/ drag queen venues/ tranny bars to pick up? To be sexually available to them? If this is so, I need to stop going out all together. I’ve never gone out to ‘pick up’. I only want to dance. Especially now I’m not in a wheelchair. Especially because I can. Especially because I’m physically able to do so. The evening was brought low by someone else’s selfishness. I’m sure the chap involved didn’t see it as a selfish act but when another person politely declines your offer of a drink and then has to resort to the brutal truth of a family tragedy to dissuade your pursuit, it’s a fair bet they are not interested. Perchance my perception of this episode is overwrought. Perhaps it is a minor miracle that I did not punch, kick or head butt anyone tonight. There is no great message within this post. Just remember this: Everyone is fighting their own battle, so be gentle. Perhaps that is a great message… Now don’t forget to drink plenty of water before bed and put some ibuprofen on the bedside table…
I’m going to need something like this after the hectic week I’m enjoying. It was Keanu’s birthday on Monday and we went out for tea at the Mt Erica Hotel in Prahran. Well, actually it was my birthday yesterday and my friends had a dinner for me at the pub, but that’s just semantics… Keanu and I get to celebrate our birthdays the same week as the AIHL Ice Hockey championships, this coming Sat 7th and Sun 8th September. My team the Melbourne Ice are fourth and in the finals. They have won the last three years but I fear we may not be able to maintain the rage of previous sudden death finals. With the help of copious amounts of vodka (and absinthe) I should survive the weekend… win or lose, I aim to misbehave!
Went and saw The City of Bones – first installment of the Mortal Instruments series on Saturday night. It was fairly decent for an adaptation of a YA novel. This may have been enhanced by the fact that all of the actors were either English or Irish (Jonathan Rhys Meyers as the villain, Valentine; Aidan Turner as one of the good guys, Luke plus the main characters played by Phil Collins’ daughter, Lily and newcomer Jamie Bower – Campbell) and the fact that I was troubled that it may have been shite like Twilight so I tipped most of my hipflask into the lemonade Benji had bought me at the candy bar… I should probably have stirred the drink better because half way through the film I got a sudden kick in the face from the Grey Goose. This was a good thing, the action had picked up and my yelling out obnoxious comments about eyebrows and accents was mostly drowned out by the film score… Had a great time and ended up on the dance floor at Sanctuary til 5am. No demons or Shadow hunters were harmed in the production of this event ; )
Been busy writing and editing novel. Kicking around ideas in my head for prospective thesis chapters. Rough research on a few subjects that may go on to be articles for submission to journals. Moved house again. That’s only three times in ten months, not even close to my PB.
Want to say that I bit the bullet and had surgery but it feels more like I swallowed the fucking gun. Or wish I had/ could. Trying hard to stay sane/ focused and not kill self/ others because of bedridden cabin fever but it would seem most days this is a Herculean task. Tonight it was fraught with triple layers of vodka, anger and a consuming sense of delayed abandonement.
I’m left to guess what I did/ said/ typed/ thought wrong. There were auditions held and it would seem that I did not fulfil the role of _________. And so I was eventually replaced by someone who could live up to the encoded notions of nostalgia, distorted perceptions and projections for the future. Turns out I’m not ready to be cast in that kind of supporting role and I didnʻt even get to throw my hat in the ring. Nevermind. Iʻm sure Iʻll live just long enough to see someone else shine in the role of a life time. Oh the sticky, conceited irony.
On the upside I may have a job coming up. Training will possibly start in June. I will do what I am best at: bury myself in ʻbusyʻ work and not come up for oxygen, even when Iʻm blue in th face. Zang!