Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humor. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

Brand new release: Bad Dogs and Drag Queens

I'm excited to announce that the first book in my new Rose and Thorne series with Dreamspinner - Bad Dogs and Drag Queens comes out today!




Isn't that a great cover? Paul Richmond did that, and he's so talented! I especially love Vinnie's eyes. And isn't Benny (the Peke) cute?

So I want to tell you something about my guys. Vinnie and Ethan are federal undercover cops, and they're not only partners on the job but off. They've been together almost five years now, and life is great. Having said that, I must warn you, Vinnie can be a diva at times. and he's often down on himself, but he's a great guy and I love him. And he loves Ethan very much! The stories are all told in Vinnie's POV, so be prepared for a lot of sarcasm. But it's all good!

I hope you enjoy the first book and I'd love to hear what you have to say!

Blurb:

Vinnie Delarosa and Ethan Thorne are partners—on and off the clock. Federal undercover detectives, they’re part of a covert task force designed to promote goodwill between the feds and local authorities. They lend an unobtrusive helping hand wherever it’s needed. No credit required.

Vinnie and Ethan work primarily in the Southeast region of the United States and live together in Richmond, Virginia. A mugger problem brings them to Roanoke, where Vinnie is thrown out as bait to catch the man who’s been snatching purses in a city park, but they end up with more than they bargained for. Why is Vinnie always the one who has to wear the dress? Ethan says it’s because Vinnie looks much prettier in a skirt. How can he argue with that?

Expecting to return to Richmond afterward, Vinnie and Ethan find themselves assigned a new case instead. They are to go undercover at The Stroll, one of the biggest gay nightclubs in Roanoke. Someone is terrorizing both the customers and the performers. Could they be dealing with a hate crime? Someone has to protect the drag queens of Roanoke, so it’s Vinnie and Ethan to the rescue!

The author is donating 10% of the royalties from this book to No Kid Hungry. Visit nokidhungry.org for more information about this organization.

Excerpt:
“Remind me again whose stupid idea this lipstick was,” I huffed beneath my breath. Without thinking, I licked my lips. They felt greasy, and tasted even worse. I forced myself not to grimace, afraid it might crack the foundation I’d slathered on my face.
“Mine, you sexy beast,” came the smart-ass reply in my ear. “I think you got purty lips, mmhmmm.”
“Fuck you,” I growled. “You should be doing this, not me, and you know it. I did it last time.”
And the time before that. And the time before that. Wait, did I detect a pattern here?
“What I know is you look better in a skirt than I do. And you look damn good out of it, too.”
My cheeks suffused with heat at Ethan’s words. Luckily the darkness hid a multitude of sins, my embarrassment being the least of them. Hopefully, no one else was listening—I knew I’d never hear the end of it. Just what I needed—to be the object of ridicule of the Roanoke PD.
I pulled a compact from the purple paisley cloth purse slung over my shoulder and flipped open the mirror so I could assess my surroundings. I couldn’t see a damn thing. I growled again. I’d have to move closer to the half-assed excuse for a light this park possessed if I wanted to scope out the situation. The city fathers had been too cheap to install proper lighting, which is why they had this mugging problem to begin with.
“What’s wrong, Vinnie?” Ethan’s concern came through my earpiece loud and clear. He might aggravate me some of the time—or most of the time—but he always had my back.
“Nothing,” I muttered as I wobbled toward the light. These heels were ridiculous. How did women do it? I’d just gained an all-new respect for the fairer sex. They made it seem so effortless, while I possessed all of the grace of a wounded water buffalo. I’d tried opting for flats, but Ethan had nixed the idea. Said they wouldn’t go with the skirt. Plus he said the heels made my legs look longer.
Pervert.


Here is a list of the stops on the tour, check them out and don't forget to sign up for the giveaway on the Rafflecopter!

Tour Dates & Stops:
9-Jun: Unquietly Me
10-Jun: BFD Book Blog
14-Jun: Molly Lolly
15-Jun: Love Bytes
16-Jun: Havan Fellows

Friday, May 8, 2015

Thunderball (Sylver & Steele #2) Review

Thunderball (Sylver & Steele #2)  
Author: Mimi Riser
Publisher: Amber Quill Press
American release date: February 22, 2010
Format/Genre/Length: E-book/M/M Paranormal Romance/45 pages
Overall Personal Rating: ★★★★★


Sylver Starr is a cross-dressing werewolf. His husband, Hunter Steele, is a 12-lb pussycat. Together, they’re a force to be reckoned with.

Once they get past their own personal disputes, that is.

These two go undercover to infiltrate an animal fighting ring. Sylver is in his white wolf form (passing as an unusual form of Siberian Huskie), and Hunter is his black boot-wearing handler.  The plan is to telepathically tell the object of the fight that they are come to free him.

Things don’t go quite as planned when they realize the Grand Champion isn’t exactly in his right mind and wants to fight Sylver—to the death?

The second book in the Sylver & Steele series is funny, smart, and sexy.  I love these two more with each book. My only complaint is length—the book ends too soon and leaves me wanting more.

If you want a tasty, witty bite, this is for you. There are at least three more books in the series, that will have to do for now.

Friday, March 22, 2013

A Heap of Trouble Review


A Heap of Trouble  
Author: Lorrie Unites-Struiff
Publisher: MuseitUp Publishing
American release date: September 11, 2012
Format/Genre/Length: EBook/ Western/150 pages
Overall Personal Rating: ★★★★★


Sheriff Cole Walker’s biggest concern is what to have for lunch, at least until he walks into his office to discover part of that lunch missing, and the culprit hiding under his desk. He would have gladly rid himself of the little monkey except, wouldn’t you know it, his secret crush, aka Miss Mattie, walks in and takes a shine to the varmint. What’s a feller to do but give in and take the critter into his home, along with a whole heap of trouble.


Cole likes Mattie, but he’s never had the nerve to tell her so, ever since she arrived in town. She’s a strong woman, and he admires her greatly, but he has his own issues and isn’t about to inflict them on her. Now he’s got a thieving monkey on his hands, as well as cattle rustlers, which is a far more serious problem. Sides are being formed, and trouble’s surely going to break out. It’s all Cole can do to keep the peace while he and his deputies try to figure out what’s going on and rectify the situation.

To be honest, I’ve never considered westerns a genre I was greatly interested in. Since reading this book, I’ve re-evaluated that position. Ms. Struiff has taken the genre and injected it with her own special brand of humor, in the form of a thieving runaway monkey named Beggar, who will steal your heart (along with anything else that isn’t nailed down!)

This book flows from beginning to end, and you’ll be caught up in it like a cow in a stampede, but in a good way. Cole Walker, the sheriff/hero, is a strong character, but he’s also human, and he has his weaknesses, although he isn’t exactly eager to admit to them. Miss Mattie is lovely and smart, but she has her own past to deal with, one she isn’t ready to share. The mystery of who’s stealing the cattle is intriguing, watching them solve it even more so, as Cole and Mattie find themselves thrown together more and more.

The humor is what especially makes this book. I love the realism. People do dumb things, yeah, and not every guy looks like he just stepped off a catwalk. Or every woman, for that matter. Cole and Mattie are both characters I’d love to know. After this, I aim to read more of Ms. Struiff’s writings, and search for that same wicked sense of humor.

This book has something for everyone—humor, mystery, romance, intrigue… it’s good old-fashioned fun. It’s safe for all ages, and I think it’s enjoyable by men and woman both. Pick up A Heap of Trouble—you’ll be glad you did!


Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Wednesday Briefs: Trapped in Time

It's Wednesday, so it must be time for more flash fiction from the Wednesday Briefers!  This week, the prompt was: "Suffer the little..." or the alternate prompts:  Use: three, hairy, billiard ball or "When can I see you again?" or "He/she said what?" or Use: scales, tradition, engine or use: dapper, dandelion, direct or "If I were you, I'd..."

Last week, in Trapped in Time, Vittorio and Doll named their new son, and they discovered that they were near the end of their journey. Today, they push on to reach the mysterious Professor... Enjoy! Then don't forget to visit all the Wednesday Briefers whose links follow my tales!



Trapped in Time #21



We are far too nervous and excited for sleep, so we gather around the communal fire and discuss the subject of mutual interest to us all—the mysterious Professor. It is amazing to us that there is another human here in this prehistoric place. We’d assumed we were the only ones, as our arrival predates that of man by many years. So who is this man and how did he come to be here?

Charlie is unable to provide us with any answers. “I do not know,” he confesses, somewhat apologetically. “I’ve never actually spoken to him as I speak with you.” That’s only natural, as he has only met the Professor while he was a monkey, a condition that Myron has changed.

“It’s all right,” Myron reassures him with tender kisses and gentle caresses. They’ve become very close since Charlie’s transformation. I’m concerned at what might ensue should the spell that binds Charlie as he is should fail. For both of them.

“How old is he?” Vittorio asks. Good idea. Perhaps we can piece together clues from what Charlie can tell us.  “Is he our age? Older than we are? Younger?” Of course, this assumes that Charlie has been observant of these types of things, a rather broad assumption to make.

Charlie puckers his brow in thought. “Older. Definitely older.”

“Are there any other people like him or is he alone?” I ask.

“Only him. He is the only one.”

“Does he live in a cave?” Myron contributes.  It has become almost a game to see who can ask the right question to elicit the most informative response.

Charlie shakes his head. “No, the Professor built something from the trees. He is very clever, he is. He says he is also lucky that he had some of his things with him.”

“What kind of things?” I eagerly ask.

“I do not know,” Charlie says again.

By the time we are ready to retire for the night, we’ve learned little.

“We’ll get all of our answers soon,” Vittorio assures me.

At that moment, Myron and Charlie walk by us, hand in hand. Charlie says something, but I cannot understand his words. He looks over his shoulder at Myron, then disappears behind some rocks a short distance from our camp.

I look at Myron quizzically.  “He said what?” I swear Myron is blushing, but in the darkness it’s hard to tell.
“He said to meet him over there…” He waves a hand toward the rocks.

“But why…” I begin, only to have Vittorio squeeze my hand.

“Go on, Myron,” he says softly. “Mary and Kitty are both asleep. Everything is well.”

Myron doesn’t look at us; he mumbles a quick thank you and follows in the same direction that Charlie took.
It’s only when Vittorio draws me to him and our lips meet that I realize what is going on, and that we too need time apart from them, time for ourselves.

We quickly take advantage of this unexpected solitude to remove all of our clothes and press our naked bodies close together: stroking, kissing, touching, loving. We make love until we are spent, and then we cuddle by the fire and dream together.

Morning comes. Charlie and Myron have returned, and Charlie brings some fruit he has found. It looks like a banana, but fatter and sweeter. I slice them and cook them and they are very delicious. We clean up our camp and set off.  It is heartening to know we are close to our goal, and to the only other human being in this entire world. We can only pray that he has some answers to our questions. Undoubtedly he has an interesting story to tell of how he came to be here, and we can tell our tale to him, if he is interested in listening.

From what little Charlie has told us, it sounds as though this Professor is very self-sufficient. Perhaps, if we are lucky, he has some knowledge of our situation and how to reverse it.  Although I do not expect this to be the case. Unless he just happens to know magic, like Myron.

It’s a beautiful day. Kitty is in a playful mood. He’s tired of being carried, so we let him walk, even if it slows us down a little. Mary is just as watchful of him as we are, and is quick to put him back on the right path if he seems about to stray.

For lunch, we content ourselves with fruit, not wishing to take the time for a fire or to hunt for small game.  Our path leads us downward into a shady valley where we find a small stream. We jump into the water fully clothed. The sun will dry us again, and it is the best we can do at the moment regarding our laundry situation, but soon, I vow, we shall do better.

Afterward, we climb up the gentle slope until we reach the top.

“Look!” Charlie points. There ahead of us, to our amazement, we see what appear to be two wooden huts huddled close to some very large rocks, as well as a small pond.  Smoke curls up from one of the huts; a most welcome sight.

We cannot help but hasten our steps, eager to meet this mystery man if for no other reason than he is one of us, even if he is a stranger. Vittorio gathers Kitty, and holds him, despite his protests—good thing he has not yet learned to use his claws—while Mary sits on the seat of the penny farthing.

Suddenly a figure emerges from one of the huts, sees our group and stops, no doubt amazed by our sudden appearance.  As we draw nearer, he begins to wave.

Suddenly, I stop and I stare, and my mouth falls open in amazement.

“Doll?” Vittorio asks in concern.

“Doll?” the man also asks.

I stare at him in disbelief. “Vati?”

And then I faint.

to be continued


Don't forget to check out the other Wednesday Briefers:



Nephylim
  
   m/m
Lily Sawyer      m/m 
Michael Mandrake     m/m
Cia Nordwell  m/m
MA Church     m/m

Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Wednesday Briefs: Trapped in Time #5

Happy Hump day one and all! If it's Wednesday, then it must be time for another Wednesday Brief! Today our prompt is: "Is that what you think of me?" and the alternative prompts are:  Use: thyme, energy, railroad, or "You have trust issues, mister!" or use: blue, turkey, field, or mention any constellation in your story.


Last week, as you'll recall, in Trapped in Time, Myron fell into the quicksand. Will Doll and Vittorio save him? Inquiring minds want to know! And don't forget to check out all the Wednesday Briefers, their links follow my story. Enjoy!

Trapped in Time #5


Myron is a soggy and pathetic mess lying upon the ground at our feet; he resembles the refuse one might find at the bottom of an outhouse. And smells almost as bad.

“Enough is enough, Myron,” Vittorio says in a gentle, but firm, voice. “You’ve had your fun, now let’s all go home.”

“B-but… but… V-Vittorio…” Myron’s voice shakes, and his lower lips trembles—what there is of it—and I do believe he’s begun to cry, the streaks of tears clearing a path in the grime upon his face. How he got dirt upon his cheeks is beyond me; I guess he rubbed them with his filthy hands.

I gaze at my own hand, suddenly curious as to how clean it is; a long thin red line bisects it, which is growing broader as I gaze, bright scarlet drops turning into a tiny rivulet that begins to sting. I can only pray that there is nothing inside that plant that can cause infection.

“Doll!” Vittorio clucks, turning his attention upon me and my slight injury. Although I assure him that I am fine, he takes my hand and bathes it with his tongue, cleansing it as best as he can under the circumstances. The cut is not very deep, and I am very appreciative of his efforts on my behalf. By the time we again remember Myron, we realize the rat is crawling away from us.

Vittorio may be the nicest person I know, but he also does not tolerate a fool lightly. As if he can read Myron’s tiny mind, he kisses me softly. “Be right back,” he murmurs, disappearing in the direction of where Myron originally appeared in the treetops. He must be on the right track, as the weasel begins to scream, crawling faster in the same direction.

“It’s mine, it’s mine, it’s mine!”

Tired of listening to his damnable caterwauling, and knowing Vittorio cannot see me or remonstrate with me, I launch a surreptitious kick at Myron’s middle, and he abates at last, curling up into a loathsome, foul-smelling ball.  I regret the action immediately, as it has befouled my shoe in the process.

Where is clean water when you need it?

Vittorio returns, a triumphant look upon his handsome face. In his hand, he holds what appears to be a piece of wood. Myron immediately launches himself at my Vittorio.

“That is mine! Give it to me now!” I guess he’s forgotten that he’s in love with my Vittorio. At least at the moment. Good.

Vittorio sidesteps him, rather handily if I do say so myself, and Myron ends up face down in the dirt.

“I know it is yours,” Vittorio says, as if he is talking to a particularly stupid child. Which he is. “This is what you used to bring us here, is it not?”

Myron rolls onto his back, and heaves himself up onto his elbows, his face a striped mask where the tears have cleansed away the mud. “Yes,” he replies sullenly, “but it wasn’t meant to… it was a mistake… only you and I…”

Aha! He is admitting what I have long suspected, that he is after my love. “What did you think, that you would kidnap Vittorio and take him to some other time and that would make him love you?” My sneer is evident in my voice. “But why this point in time?” I ask. “I do not understand what you were thinking.” Well, he wasn’t thinking, that much is clear.

“Is that what you think of me?” he asks indignantly.

“It is what I think too,” Vittorio adds. “I’d like to know the same thing. You do not seem to understand. It is Doll I love and only Doll. I would not love you, not ever, but especially under those circumstances. I am sorry, Myron.”
I’m not, and I feel  very vindicated and very triumphant! I reach for my Vittorio and we do an impromptu victory polka. He leads, of course.

Once we finish reeling about, we catch our breath and turn to collectively face down Myron, who seems to have shrunk inside of his nasty clothes.

“But I love you, Vittorio,” he protests in a very small voice, as if the words are a mantra that can protect him from harm. In the old country, there is a man who would take someone such as Myron and have a long talk with him, to understand why his mind is so… what is the word? I cannot think. Why he is so verrückt. Crazy. I believe his name is Freud.

“I am sorry,” Vittorio repeats, as he slides his arm about my waist, and draws me closer to him. “Can we go home now?”

Myron throws himself upon the ground. Well, technically, he was already there. He begins to thrash about and flail; if he were younger, I’d say he is having a temper tantrum. I shall say it anyway. He is being a spoiled brat, and he needs to be disciplined as such. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to touch him, and neither will Vittorio.
I turn to my love. “I was thinking…”

“Si, my love?”

“If there are animals here, there must be water, yes?”

“Yes, I think there should be. Are you thinking what I’m thinking, my clever Doll?”

I grin at him, reaching up and sweeping my fingers along his jaw. “Ja. Bath time, my sweet baby. You and me, ja?”

“You and me, ja,” he agrees, kissing my fingertips, sending a tingle down the length of my spine. We start to walk away; Myron screams louder.

“You can’t leave me, you can’t leave me, you can’t… I’ll hold my breath until I turn blue!” he threatens.

“Please do,” I tell him. “You will find that you will pass out before you die.”

He beings to wail again, an annoying siren sound that is suddenly and mysteriously cut short. Vittorio and I look at one another, then back at Myron.

to be continued

Go see what the other Wednesday Briefers are doing!


Nephylim     m/m
Tali     m/m
MA Church    m/m
LM Brown    m/m
MC Houle     m/m
Lily Sawyer      m/m  



Until next time, take care!

♥ Julie