On the surface, The Femdom Felony may seem like an odd read, an unusual mix of genres and subjects, but it's precisely the kind of book I wished we saOn the surface, The Femdom Felony may seem like an odd read, an unusual mix of genres and subjects, but it's precisely the kind of book I wished we saw more of in the market. Thomas Moffatt has crafted a mystery/thriller that deals with alternative energy and climate change on the one hand, and an erotic thriller that deals with marginalized communities and social stigma on the other. It's not a book about BDSM and LGBTQIA communities, but one that naturally and sensitively incorporates them into the story in the same way other authors weave in sports fans, computer geeks, fashionistas, or the differently abled.
Jay is a happy, well-adjusted masochist with a good job in the IT field who just happens to spend 3 days a week as a live-in submissive to a dominant woman known as the Catwoman - or did, because by page 2 we find out she's dead . . . and he's a suspect. And that's where our story kicks off, searching for answers as to who killed her and why, which naturally involves attending several BDSM functions to question those who saw her last, and which eventually branches out into the world of energy and climate activism through people who cross communities. And that is a perfect example of the inclusivity here - the BDSM community isn't pigeonholed or siloed as something else, a group of freaks or deviants who stand alone, but as just another community that incorporates friends, neighbors, and colleagues from all walks of life.
The element of climate activism is really the only place where Moffatt allows himself a little commentary, with observations about the dangers of mining and the fact that wide swaths of sun-drenched lands would be perfect for solar farms, but the province chooses not to use them. Even that is soft commentary, however, and he fairly explores the impact of climate and energy on those in the province who depend on the industry for their livelihoods.
When it comes to the truth of who is behind everything, it's not a simple matter of any one group being all good or all bad, but about there being bad actors in all communities. There are no stock villains or cartoonish archetypes here, just normal people living their lives who are sometimes too passionate about certain causes and do the wrong things for what they feel are the right reasons.
My only complaint about the book was that, for all that I liked him, Jay is forced a bit too much into the role of cold, cool, calm action hero. The emotions I would have liked to see, the grief over the death of his Mistress and the frustration of being a suspect, losing his job, and being ostracized by his colleagues, are underplayed. Similarly, even for a masochist, he bounces back from injury far too quickly/easily - the flogging sessions alone would leave me stiff and sore the next day, never mind . .. well, some of the things that happen to him near the end of the book that I can't spoil.
Finally, to get back to the femdom aspect of The Femdom Felony, Moffatt does a fantastic job of exploring that community with some BDSM scenes that are played for narrative/dramatic value rather than erotic titillation, while still managing to convey the excitement and intensity to the reader. It's a well-rounded, truly inclusive book, and I'd love to see more like it.
The blurb for Daughter of the Storm promises "a smart, fast-paced climate action thriller with three strong women working to save humanity from itselfThe blurb for Daughter of the Storm promises "a smart, fast-paced climate action thriller with three strong women working to save humanity from itself." It is indeed a smart thriller, one that incorporates aspects of artificial intelligence, climate science, environmental activism, green technology, and the ruthlessness of capitalism. I found the pacing rather slow/uneven, however, often being interrupted by info dumping and unnecessary details around hobbies and habits. While these are details that, when used sparingly, can help set a scene or establish a character, they overwhelm the story when it's a novella of 160 pages.
Rave Maps, Mait Orleans, and Kate Tong are an interesting trio of protagonists, and it was for them that I kept reading. They were unique, sometimes even unorthodox, characters, and the unexpected ways in which they responded to situations kept the story feeling fresh. The villain, LaMarque, was almost cartoonish in her portrayal, which is a distinct contrast to the heroines, but entirely in fitting with the James Bond-esque plot.
And that's where I struggled the most with this book, and am honestly still unsure how I feel about it. We have realistic heroines put up against a cartoonish villain; scientifically-backed, altruistic activism versus greedy capitalism; and clever, plausible uses of technology clashing with preposterous acts of evil. It's like a pulp adventure serial with pages of Scientific American or National Geographic randomly inserted, and sometimes the bridging between styles is so abrupt as to be jarring.
All that said, Daughter of the Storm was a very different read, and for all the indecisiveness I had about it, I never stopped reading. I wanted to see the women succeed . . . I wanted to see the villain thwarted . . . and (most importantly) I wanted to know *how* it would all be done. Globe's novella was uneven, but full of promise, and I would not say 'no' to another adventure with Rave and Mait....more
No Road Home was a dark, creepy, atmospheric work of supernatural-laced horror with enough hate-worthy characters to carry the weight of reader anger,No Road Home was a dark, creepy, atmospheric work of supernatural-laced horror with enough hate-worthy characters to carry the weight of reader anger, and just enough tolerable characters to do the same for reader sympathy. For the most part, this was a solid 5-star read, one that kept me reading late into the night. It captured my imagination, played upon my emotions, and triggered my intellectual curiosity.
I picked this up knowing nothing about John Fram, but the blurb sounded almost as if the book were written for me – a young father, his queer son, and a murdered televangelist, complete with family’s dangerous, a freak storm, and a spectral figure in a black suit – but I feel like it went even deeper than that. I was already prepared to loathe the Wright family, but their brutal hypocrisy and petty infighting added an element of glee to watching their house come tumbling down. They’re such a melodramatic group, like a family from a gothic soap opera, and the house is a suitably creepy maze of forbidden wings and locked doors. Add in the threats scrawled in blood-red lettering, the torn-up mysterious notes, and the conveniently interrupted would-be-confessions, and this is a book to keep you guessing and engaged.
So why just a 5-star read for the most part? The climax goes on for far too long, dragging out what should have been a tight, powerful, confrontational finale. After being a single-POV story for 85% of the read, it suddenly leaps into multiple POVs, with their narratives overlapping, to show every single part of the resolution when some would have been fine left to tell. Finally, after a prolonged (sometimes tiresome) theme of locked doors and repressed memories, we find out our narrator isn’t as reliable as he seems, and the big secret/spoiler feels like a cheat, given he knew it all along.
One thing I will say for the story is that it avoids the tendency toward children who turn out to be special in some way, supernaturally destined to save the day. At the same time, it gives Luca enough personality to make him and his queerness more than just a plot device, although I wish we’d gotten to see more of him prior to the climax. No Road Home was a really good read that could have been great, but that’s a comment, not a complaint.
Back in the day, I worked as a dishwasher in a greasy spoon diner that had an appointment-only bookstore attached. Whenever somebody was scheduled to Back in the day, I worked as a dishwasher in a greasy spoon diner that had an appointment-only bookstore attached. Whenever somebody was scheduled to explore the bookstore, I got to unlock it, tidy it up, and basically get it ready for shopping. That also meant I got to shop for myself, and that’s where I discovered authors like Craig Thomas, Robert Ludlum, Clive Cussler, and Tom Clancy.
The Hunt for Red October was, far and away, my favorite read to be plucked from those shelves, and the movie is one of my favorites as well, a must-watch viewing event whenever it shows up on TV. I haven’t read a lot of the Ryanverse/Clancyverse since Tom Clancy passed away, but when I heard that Act of Defiance was (1) a sequel to Red October, and (2) featured Katie Ryan, Jack’s youngest daughter, I knew I had to read it – and I’m glad I did.
At 560 pages, this is a far cry from the 1000-page doorstoppers that defined Clancy’s later days, and that works in its favor. It’s shorter, faster, and more intense. There are fewer characters, fewer side-plots, and much less technobabble info-dumping. It is indeed a direct sequel to Red October, and one that brings back some surprising characters from that book to help face the crisis, and presents us with a new adversary who has a personal connection to those events. Where it differs from the original is that its rogue submarine commander isn’t looking to defect, he’s looking to help a secret cabal with the Kremlin deliver a devastating nuclear blow to America.
Much to my delight (and relief), Katie is a true heroine, definitely following in her father’s footsteps, but very much her own woman. Like Jack, she’s less about out-fighting the enemy than out-thinking them, and she’s not afraid to speak her mind, even though she’s still green enough to be nervous before authority. The portrayal of women in the genre can often be problematic, but Andrews & Wilson hit the right balance here.
I raced through this, enjoying every moment, and I’ll happily be there for Katie’s next adventure. A great read and a worthy sequel.
This was a solid read, a fast-paced, high-stakes thriller that reminded me of the later seasons of 24 where Jack Bauer had grown tired and cynical, buThis was a solid read, a fast-paced, high-stakes thriller that reminded me of the later seasons of 24 where Jack Bauer had grown tired and cynical, but still knew where his duty lay. Personally, I found the first half of the book, where there were so many questions and doubts, where we couldn't tell good from bad, far more entertaining. I liked not knowing if the President was a good guy or a bad guy, not knowing which of the conspiracy theories were true. That doubt had me reading closer, looking for clues to the truth.
The second half is still solid, but it's more of a standard popcorn action thriller. The twists started to telegraph themselves, suspension of disbelief became a little strained with all the things that could possibly go wrong, and characters actions started to become a little questionable. With that said, I did appreciate how the ending is left somewhat vague, denying us the ultimate answer as to whether it was all a paranoid conspiracy or a carefully calculated insider plot.
Finally, kudos to Matthew Quirk for writing a whole novel about the President, the White House, and American politics without actually getting into politics. There's very little talk of parties or philosophies, and no allusions or references to recent political figures. Who you see as heroes or villains may be colored by your own affiliations, but they're deliberately soft and vague upon the page....more
Hmm. For a book in the "Super Sissy Hypnosis Romance-Erotica Collection," this was lacking both obvious sissy and hypnosis content. Perhaps, if you reHmm. For a book in the "Super Sissy Hypnosis Romance-Erotica Collection," this was lacking both obvious sissy and hypnosis content. Perhaps, if you read the other books, the transgender aspect is just assumed at this point, but were it not for 'Sissy' in the title, I'd never have known.
It's a decent thriller, with some nice character moments, but I found most scenes ended rather abruptly, with more tell than show. The action and erotica are inferred, happening mostly off the page, almost as if this was a censored version of the full story.
Also, and this could be a copy-paste error or an accidental artifact of the writing process, but there's a ChatGPT prompt embedded in the text about halfway through, and that bothered me....more
A Conspiracy of Ravens marks the launch of a new series from the godmother of queer crime as the woman who gave us Jinx Ballou (transgender Bounty HunA Conspiracy of Ravens marks the launch of a new series from the godmother of queer crime as the woman who gave us Jinx Ballou (transgender Bounty Hunter) and Shea Stevens (lesbian Outlaw Biker) introduces us to Avery Byrne (transgender Goth Vigilante). Dharma Kelleher herself is an openly transgender author, and that means her stories don’t just pander to or pay lip service to diversity, they are diverse in their very bones.
What immediately struck me about Avery Byrne is her vulnerability. Jinx and Shea are both kick-ass women, either one of whom you’d be happy to have on your side in a fight. One is an ex-cop and the other an ex-con, and they’ve been tested (and hardened) by the world around them. For all that Avery does have a tragic past, and has most certainly been tested, the young tattoo artist has yet to be hardened. She’s young enough to make foolish choices and naive enough to put her trust in the wrong people, but for all the right reasons.
The plot here is pretty simple. With her girlfriend having been murdered for stealing from the mob, Avery is running from both mob vengeance and police justice, all while the stink of corruption and the allure of millions of dollars blurs the lines between the two groups. On the run, it’s only when she’s painted into an impossible corner that she finds the courage to do something about the problem.
Like all of Dharma’s books, this is an action-packed, fast-paced thrill ride with characters who endear themselves to you. These are stories about marginalized groups, about people harassed for who they are or who they love, and she pulls no punches in confronting the ugliness of hatred. Like everything else I’ve read of hers, at times this made me furious, but overall the message is one of hope, of the power of love, friendship, and fond family.
Jinx does make an appearance here, and as much as that excited me, I was also anxious that she’d save the day from under Avery. I needn’t have worried. A Conspiracy of Ravens sees Avery tested and hardened, coming out the other side stronger and wiser, and I’m excited to see where the goth vigilante turns her attention next.