The Wrong Station
A friend of mine has 15,000 followers on Twitter. She writes erotica novels and her Twitter account is her pseudonym ( lets call her Twinkle). It mostly involves pics of semi and naked soft focus beautiful couples and snippets of erotic prose of her and her boyfriends (real or imagined) sex life with teasing windows into ( again real or imagined) fantasies involving other beautiful people. I'm not sure whether either myself or Rocksey ( or both of us) have been involved in these daily accounts of life with a sex god ( either way its definitely imagined in our case)!!
Rocksey has spent the weekend doing some promotion work for the bands forthcoming album and at a loss of things to do I agreed to review Twinkles latest erotic novella. The third of a trilogy about a rock star and an as yet unknown, singer who makes it big as well as stealing his heart along the way bound together by some fairly heavy duty sex scenes with pretty much nothing left to the imagination. The first book was excellent and I had really enjoyed reading it, especially with its cliff hanger ending, the second book had started well but sort of fizzled out towards the end, Twinkle should really have stopped there but obviously having agreed to a 3 book deal she ploughed on.
Now I love a good love story ( well it resonates with my real life little I like to think) and with a healthy dose of sex and escapism I will read trash novels all day long given the chance, but Twinkle having run out of story line decided to dedicate most of book 3 to the rockstars anal sex fetish and the inconceivable pregnancy of the starlet....now how she ever got up the duff with the simple fact that the rockstar never actually did the deed ( in the right place) until about page 250 I am still baffled, especially as Twinkle must have decided that even she had had enough as the book ends at page 280 with the birth of triplets which after this traumatic chapter ( I've had 2 kids, but it was all a little too graphic) the starlet gave up her glittering career either too knackered to carry on from looking after the sprogs or too busy walking backwards when ever the rockstar was in the room who was still very much anally fixated. I really do hope that Twinkles ' everyone's got a book in her' trilogy ends here and doesn't limp on to book 4, or God forbid, a film ( not that this trilogy could be aired on the big screen) , even her 15000 Twitter followers I imagine would not be too impressed!
But on to the Review.....what on earth do you say when there is nothing constructive to say? I sit in front of my lap top staring at a blank screen and can think of absolutely nothing good to say, I flick back through the ebook on my ipad, surely there must be some inspiration actually in the book..... but no every page I land on has the starlet legs akimbo panting and drooling over the rockstars train heading into the wrong station.
I take a walk into the garden, a handful of bird seed in my pocket, our chickens run towards me treat hungry getting under my feet and clucking in that ' what you go for us, we are so hungry' way they have even though they have probably been eating bugs and worms all day long. We have a very randy cockerel (Dave) who is always horny and spends practically every waking minute dancing around his ladies hoping to have his wicked way. He is up to his usual tricks waiting whilst the girls are distracted by bird seed to run off from him and then pow! he's off ...a bit like the anally fixated rockstar except Dave manages to get the right station.
And then it struck me I could not only write a positive review for Twinkle based on Daves antics ( which are rather more entertaining than Twinkles characters) but also I could actually write my own book - and no one would know that my central character Dave was actually a horny Pekin Bantam!!!
An hour later I am back in the garden with a cold beer - my reward for writing a review for Twinkle which she had already tweeted to her 15,000 followers no doubt many of whom are now exchanging their hard earned cash on Amazon for a copy of her latest bonk buster!
I decide to spend some time studying the chickens in order to construct a 'plausible' story line around Dave and his endless mission to bed as many ladies in one day as ( chickenly) possible.
Dave makes his usual 'come and get me baby' warble and dances around an unsuspecting chick, his train making it into the right station.
