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Posts Tagged ‘concupiscent’

Here’s a quicky review of a quicky book I read for the challenge. Quickies are good every now again. Sometimes you just need a little light-hearted, no pressure release. This book delivered.

A Midsummer Night’s Sin by Kasey Michaels; page count 384
The book is actually the second in a trilogy, Blackthorn Brothers, which I did not realize until I began reading it. It is by no means required to read the first book before proceeding, but I did get a bit tired of the characters referring unneccesarily to events from the previous book.
A Midsummer Night's SinThis second book focuses on the third and youngest Blackthorn brother, Robin “Puck” Goodfellow Blackthorn, as well as, Regina Hackett, daughter of a wealthy merchant. They meet at a scandelous masqurade from which Regina’s best friend and cousin is kidnapped. As with most romance stories, Puck is so taken with Regina that he agrees to put himself in danger in order to help find the snatched lady.
Overall the book is not bad. The plot was well-paced, the steamier scenes were not too chaste, (although, I could have had a little more oomph) and I enjoyed the characters. If I do happen across the other two books and it’s not too much trouble, I might read them, as well. All points to the positive, I probably would not outright recommend this book for its own sake. If someone aksed me very specifically, “What do you have in regency fiction romance that’s good?” then I would suggest this Michaels trilogy. However if someone just wanted a “good book,” I probably wouldn’t mention it.

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The Taming of Jessi Rose by Beverly Jenkins, page count: 375
I wanted to read a saucier book than normal, but did not feel like reading complete drivel. To that end, I checked over with the awesome ladies at Smart Bitches, Trashy Books for an author recomendation. I only looked at the books which made an A grade, then I narrowed down to a couple of authors in the historical fiction genre. I went to my local library with author names in hand. Lo and behold, there were several books by both authors. I decided on The Taming of Jessi Rose by Beverly Jenkins soley because of the hunky piece of man-meat on the front. (That’s right. I’m shallow. Sue me. And while I’m making confessions, the only reason I did not finish this book before now was because I *had* to finish that ballet book first.)
The Taming of Jessi Rose

mmmmmmm......hunky man meat

Griffin Blake, that’s hunky piece of man-meat to you and me, is a train robber turned US Marshall to help out a boy in need. Jessi Rose Clayton is that boy-in-need’s aunt. Jessi is trying to save her family ranch from being sold for to railroad line, and she is often forced to resort to gunfire to protect her property from those who would purchase it.

I must say, I was delighted! The writing was good, the characters were wonderfully mulitdementional, and the history was accurate, insofar as I am aware of African American history of Texas. I am sorry to report that the steamy scenes did not quite live up to my expectations. The scenes were not bad and were tastefully handled, just not quite as steamy as I’d like. (The rare times when I go for that sort of book, I expect results.) I especially enjoyed the banter between the two main characters. They were both cute and realistic, a feat apparently difficult for many authors to achieve. They reminded me of some of my favorite real-life couples.
Honestly, I do not normally go for Westerns, but this book was good. I can see why the aptly named Smart Bitches gave Jenkins an A. I would, too, if we did that sort of thing. We don’t, though. So I’ll just say that I enjoyed the book very much, and would in turn recommend it to others. I’m sure I’ll borrow another Jenkins book in the furture.

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I’m reading Golden Country by Jennifer Gilmore right now. So far it is an excellent book, but I’m only about halfway through. (This is what happens when you try to read two….ok three books at one time.) The book revolves around the long, intricate, interweaving histories and relationships between the three main characters.

I was struck by this particular passage:

Golden Country cover art“If Frances could not be in [Joseph’s] dreams, she knew she could at least help make some of those dreams come true. … She thought of her new husband. Vladimir was the right one, the right investment, the one who would set the world on fire. She loved him. And the thought of making love to him made her shiver. So why, why? why! was she still broken over Joseph? She could not ask Vladimir for the scientific explanation, though she knew there had to be one, some chemical reason that she would never stop wanting Joseph Brodsky. Her blood craved his blood. She could taste it, and still the thought of him made her mouth water.” (130-131)

I know I’ve felt that way before. Not about the husband, obviously, but about being happy in one relationship, or lack thereof, and yet still finding myself drawn to a past flame. Is it mere chemistry? Is it just that our hormones and pheromones “like” theirs? Is it because we know them and are comfortable on one or more levels? Is it some other-worldly sign that we have known this soul before or should get to know them better? I do not think it is only a personal history alone which causes this reaction. I’ve had enough previous boyfriends and I am on friendly terms with enough of them to know that I do not have this same reaction to all former inamoratos.

Oddly, the last time I felt this it was with a prospective-boyfriend turned friend, let’s call him Jay, with whom I have never done more than make out. (Although, wow! Those was a doozies!) I met up him and other friends on a night out, and despite the fact that I knew we wouldn’t work out together, I was terribly drawn to him. Despite the fact that I knew that my future and living situation was (and remains) precarious at best. Dash it all! I was the sole individual responsible for turning this would-be-boyfriend into strictly a friend. So why did I still feel immensely attracted to Jay? Why was my strongest impulse to jump him right there in front of everyone?

I am here to report that I did no such thing. I managed to keep my wits about me. I sincerely hope no one noticed that I wanted to throw myself at Jay. Despite the lively spark, I still stand by my original decision. Jay and I would not have worked out in the long run, and ending it when I did saved us both from grief. Goodness knows, if my reaction to him was that strong without sex or long-term exposure, it would have been painful to eventually leave Jay. But why the lingering spark?

I don’t suppose anyone has an answer to this. It’s just the beguiling and illusive “spark” Indigo wrote about.* In fact, it’s really the opposite side of the same coin. What’s a girl to do when there’s a spark but nothing else?

 

 

*I wrote all but the final touches and paragraph prior to reading Indigo’s post, “The Zsa Zsa Zsu.” It’s odd how frequently the three of us on on the same wavelength without even knowing about it.

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I am currently sitting at my computer while two brawny men put together my new NordicTrack treadmill. Yes folks, I finally caved in after attempting to be satisfied with hand-me-down exercise videos and a Wii game system. The last couple months has been slow going and dealing with so much technology has given me more frustration that fitness. In the attempt to actually be successful with my New Year’s resolution, I have gone back to the original method of weight loss that I had so much luck with after high school: good old fashioned walking. It’s more cost effective than joining a gym because I’ll always have this piece of machinery. It’s like buying a home instead of wasting money on renting an apartment.

The other benefit of buying one of these fine pieces of equipment is that they deliver it right to your home and set it up for you. And the advantage of that, ladies, is that there is currently some FINE eye candy in my apartment right now. I usually don’t go for blonds, but boy, one of these men is handsome, and the two of them are engaging in masculine activities. They hauled the treadmill up three flights of stairs to my apartment, have a slew of tools to assemble the machine, and have removed a layer of clothing. Maybe if I’m lucky, my radiator will come on and they’ll have to remove their shirts too, because I really want to see those bulging muscles unleashed from the tight t-shirt. The golden god, as I shall henceforth call the blond one, is a chiseled, rugged, model-type, sweaty, and wielding power tools.

Come now, you say, you’re objectifying these poor men who are just doing their job. Well, I say two things to you. First, men have objectified women since the beginning of time, so it is only fair that we get to do it right back at them. Second, NordicTrack should not employ such good looking delivery men if they want to protect their dignity. All I can say is that today is shaping up to be quite good: attractive men in my house as an added bonus to the delivery of my long-awaited purchase.

You know you’re jealous.

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Concupiscent Classic

I’m sure nearly everyone has felt the way I’ve been feeling lately, ….that is to say ….. frustrated (ahem!) To be perfectly honest, I’ve been feeling a bit pent up. It’s been a while after all, and I’m only human. So I do what most women do when they are feeling this way, I watch porn read classic literature.

Just kidding! Alright, I am reading The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about a real classic. A classic must-read for anyone feeling a little lascivious: A Knight in Shining Armor by Jude Deveraux. A knight, Nicholas, from sixteenth century England is transported to 1988 because his soulmate, Dougless, is in distress. (Dougless is a woman.) The two don’t get a long at all, but the Knight convinces our modern heroine to help him suss out his murderer through historical research. It’s all a bit cheesy, but when the two inevitably get together Wow! It’s one of the best and most riveting steamy scenes I’ve ever read.

 

A very small taste:

“Nicholas,” she whispered. “Nicholas.”

He was on her, his mouth and hands everywhere as she kissed whatever part of him came near her mouth. His hands tore at her gown and Dougless heard it ripping away. When his hot, wet mouth fastened onto her breast she screamed in ecstasy.

 

That’s just the beginning! It goes on for another titillating six pages. I promise you, you will not be let down by the book.

I’ll keep my eye out for more stimulating scenes; although I highly doubt I’m going to get any from Monsieur Dumas. Do you have any go-to “classics” for hard times?

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