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REVIEW: Banquet by adan ramie

29/5/2018

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Genre: science fiction (unclassified)

Pairings: f/f

Queer Representation: cis lesbian

Warnings: racism

Rating: one star. possibly more, depending on what you're looking for

REVIEWED BY ANON.

Review

Rison Ecks, prisoner aboard a transport spaceship headed for...a penal colony (I think), gets marooned on a planet. The droid she befriended on her voyage is kidnapped, and Rison risks death, out of body orgasms, and unattractive women in order to save the droid and...get off the planet? I think? I'm not sure what Rison's higher purpose is, honestly.

Normally I would break the review down into basic elements, like plot, characters, etc., but the lack of most of these elements in BANQUET make that difficult. Generally speaking, this book has all the campy elements of 1970s era pulp sci fi (+1 for slave girls, +1 for random lesbian sex scenes, -1 for white default, -1 for magical negro, +1 for not burying your gays) without the benefit of really any form of social commentary. The only person of color (barring purple and red skinned aliens) is simply referred to as 'the dark man' for the first few chapters until he and the 'ugly woman' are captured, leaving Rison alone on a planet filled with... strange lesbians and beings that like meat a lot (which is not a gay joke, and I feel like that was really a lost opportunity there).

For some reason not specified, possibly due to lack of character development, Rison chooses to save the captured droid she befriended on the prison barge, instead of the black guy or the ugly woman. Hence, she goes on a quest to find the thing, running into (not necessarily in this order): a mirage of her dead lover with whom she has sex, a random pregnant woman, a woman who gives her another woman to have sex with, but during the sex she leaves her body to talk with the first woman, the antagonist who really likes meat, and the love interest (I think) who is a really good cook.

Also there is a cooking contest? Did I mention that?

If it weren't for the problematic implicit bias, the lack of narrative structure, the typos, and the magical black man trope, I'd be tempted to file this book under the 'ridiculously campy' tab, and have it sit next to such favorites as (and really, these are some of my favorites) ETERNAL PLEASURE (they're men with the souls of dinosaurs and they need a hot limo driver, STAT!), DAUGHTER OF THE BLOOD (magical cock rings of obedience!), and everything by Chuck Tingle. Alas, the writing fell too flat for me to tell if the book was meant to be pulp satire or not, the tropes were problematic, and I never connected with the narrative.

Sadly, as much as I love space lesbians, and as eager as I was to get my hands on this book, I can't say that I enjoyed it. However, those looking to relive 1970s era pulp fiction, complete with its problematic attitudes but minus the homophobia, may be well served by this book.
​
You can buy BANQUET here
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RELEASE DAY BLITZ: riding the track

28/5/2018

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Title:  Riding the Track
Author: Kara Ripley
Publisher:  NineStar Press
Release Date: May 28, 2018
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 28600
Genre: Contemporary, Australia, bisexual, lesbian, outback, trail ride, vacation

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Synopsis


Herding cattle and drinking Australian beer aren’t pastimes that particularly appeal to an ‘indoor girl’ like Clara, but she’d be damned if she’d let her cheating ex-boyfriend have the vacation they were meant to share. So, to salvage some piece of her self-respect after a bad break-up, she finds herself riding a horse along the Oodnadatta Track for five days.

When Clara arrives, she can’t help but feel an intense attraction to Evelyn, the drover who guides their group through the immensely unique landscape between Coober Pedy and the Anna Creek Station. Clara’s never been one for a no-strings-attached fling, but cowgirl Evie becomes increasingly difficult to resist.

In combination with the exquisite outback, soulful horses, and overly cheerful tourists, Evie may just be exactly what Clara needs to escape her own pessimism.

Excerpt


Riding the Track
Kara Ripley © 2018
All Rights Reserved

A week traipsing around the ass-end of Australia was not my idea of a good time. As I exited the airplane, all I could think was: what the fuck am I doing here? Rather than at home in Sacramento, curled up with my sociopathic cat on my favorite sofa, drinking away my sorrows with my favorite wine, and obsessively rewatching my favorite episodes of Gilmore Girls. Instead, I was on my own—yes, traveling alone is a thing people do—waiting to be picked up by a tour guide who would probably smile too broadly, laugh too loudly, and abbreviate every other word to the point where I wouldn’t be able to understand a damn thing.

Regardless, it was still worth taking the trip, because it meant Austin (otherwise known as my idiot ex-boyfriend) had to stay home. Standing in line, another international zombie waiting to get my passport stamped, the thought made me smile.

“What brings you to the land down under?” The customs officer’s words might’ve suggested he was interested, but his monotone made it obvious he’d already asked at least fifty other people the same thing. But he was making an effort. I hadn’t realized how utterly terrifying the officials were in the airports back home. Contrast was sobering.

“Here for one of those outdoor adventure vacations,” I told him. I left out the part about taking the trip as a way to say “screw you” to my moronic, cheating ex-boyfriend, the one who’d actually wanted to go to South Australia. “It’s a cattle drive.” My voice was scratchy, my throat dry. I hadn’t actually spoken to anybody for hours. I didn’t have reason for complaint, though, since I managed to get an empty seat next to me and the flight attendant didn’t push too hard for conversation.

“Wonderful. Well—” He returned my passport. “—have a fantastic time, Clara Adler.” It always sounded strange to me when a stranger used my full name. I tucked the passport into my back pocket and nodded politely before moving on.

A few hours and two way-too-strong cappuccinos later, I was on yet another flight. This time, though, a small crowd of us were crammed into the world’s smallest cabin. The guy in the window seat next to me had serious need of some mouthwash or a mint. I had to keep my face turned away from him to avoid breathing in his noxious cigarette breath. It was a shame because, from what I saw through the window across the aisle, the landscape became increasingly orange as we put more distance between us and the capital city. It wasn’t quite the same color as the Nevada desert I’d visited with my parents. Nor did it seem as stagnant. Even with brief glances, the scorched land below us asserted itself as a living entity—a bear reaching the end of its hibernation period. Still and seemingly peaceful, yet hungry.

From the sky, the low-lying rectangular building in Coober Pedy reminded me of a roller-skating rink more than an airport, as though I could reach through the window and pick the whole thing up. When they finally opened the hatch and let us out, I wanted to guzzle the fresh air like a dehydrated alcoholic with their lips wrapped around a beer tap. I hadn’t been all that excited about the whole idea of being outdoors, but after such a suffocating trip, I wondered if there was something to be gained from this whole affair after all.

The tour guide waited on the tarmac, holding a sign that read “Clara, Louise, and Michael. Let’s round ’em up!” I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. To be fair, she was probably trying to be welcoming. Ordinarily, I might have even appreciated the effort. Reflecting on how hostile I’d been lately made me remember the-idiot-named-Austin again. It irritated me that my loser ex-boyfriend had made me so moody.

The woman holding the sign noticed me staring and waved, lifting up onto her toes, even though there wasn’t anyone between us. Her dark eyes widened beneath a charcoal-colored hat as she smiled at me, gesturing for me to join her. The hat fascinated me. It looked like something a cowboy would wear, except the crown didn’t reach so high, and the brim had a less severe curl than I would have expected. I suddenly remembered mention of them in a magazine I’d skimmed on the flight over. An Akubra.

I took a deep breath to prepare for extended social interaction and walked over. Two others fell into step with me. Louise and Michael?

“Welcome to Oz!” The shine of the sign-holder’s white teeth was intensified by the dark tones of her face. “I’m guessing you two are Louise and Michael,” she said, offering a handshake.

“You guess right! You maybe ought to be a fortune-teller,” Louise replied enthusiastically, her Southern accent asserting itself. It was clear that Louise was going to get under my skin for the next few days. She was too cheerful. It just wasn’t natural to be that excited to meet new people.

“G’day. Good to meet ya,” the Australian replied. “My name’s Evelyn. But you can call me Evie, yeah?” I’d always assumed films and television programs exaggerated the Aussie accent and vernacular. If the woman was any indication, the stereotypes were more than fair. My guess, though, was that she probably had to speak that way to appease the tourists. “That leaves Clara,” she said as she held out her hand. Her grip was strong as she gave my arm one quick up-and-down before releasing it. I wanted to rub the back of my hand like a child but decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to offend the one who’d be guiding us. I needed another coffee. Or maybe a cider. Was the early afternoon a reasonable time to start drinking in Australia?

“Right.” Evie clapped her hands together. “You lot are the last ones to arrive. A few hours and we’ll be at base camp. You can get some good bush tucker, have a few drinks, enjoy a few songs, meet your horses, and get a solid night’s sleep before the real adventure starts.”

Horses. Fuck. I was so busy avoiding Mr. Stink-Mouth on the plane that I’d forgotten the horses, even though it was one of the main reasons Austin had wanted to come on this vacation. The fifteen hours of travel before that probably hadn’t helped my memory either.

Five days wandering through the South Australian outback. Sure, I could handle that. Probably. But on a horse? Jesus H Christ. I hadn’t been atop a horse since the seventh grade. Summer camp. A ripped seam in my jeans. Jonas Egan laughing at me from his saddle. God, Jonas was such an asshole. I imagined him as an adult, living in some overcrowded apartment building with his eight illegitimate children and underage girlfriend, still scratching his balls when he thought no one was watching.

I was going to have to actually ride a horse. For five days. Shit. My crotch and thighs were practically aching already. Fuck you and your cowboy obsession, Austin. If I kept my bad track record up, I was going to need an asshole display cabinet for my growing collection.

As the four of us walked through the small building toward the baggage claim, I couldn’t help but notice the jeans Evelyn—Evie the Drover—was wearing. Dark blue. Bootleg. Tight. Did my eyes just linger on her butt? I had to admit, it was a damned impressive butt. I wanted to ask her if she had a regular routine of squats or if the muscle tone came from all the riding. Either way, I didn’t think too much of my little rear-end inspection at the time. It’s not as though it was the first time I’d checked out a woman, and there wasn’t anything else to see at the Coober Pedy airport.

The car was a well-traveled pickup truck, the kind with two rows of seats. It was probably white, but under all the orange dust, it was difficult to be sure.

“I’ll take that for ya,” Evie said as she made for my duffel bag. Her fingers grazed against mine as she wrapped her hand around the handle and gently pulled it out of my grip. Though we both had dark hair and eyes, my skin was pale against hers, almost sickly.

“Thanks.” I redirected my gaze to a rather exciting rock a few inches away from the rear tire. It was the safer option, given my brain seemed to want me to inspect the front of Evie the drover in much the same way I had the back.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo


Meet the Author

Kara Ripley is the romance-writing alter ego of Australian sci-fi and fantasy author, Rebecca Langham. Even though she’s named after two iconic sci-fi characters, Kara reflects Rebecca’s inner romantic, that part of her secretly wanting to leave the aliens, magic, and spaceships behind every now and then.

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Author Q&A: K.S. Trenten

19/5/2018

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1. Welcome! First of all, let's have a chat about your fairy tales. You've contributed to multiple NSP anthologies with queer retellings of fairy tales, and you've also published 'Fairest'.

What inspired you to write these stories? Which of the fairy tale appropriations is your favourite.


Many sources of inspiration flowed together, becoming a gushing river which poured into Fairest. Another trickled off into At Her Service. There will be other trickles. I'm only just beginning to identify certain stories, songs, and imagery which fed the flow. They seeped into my imagination without me noticing how much they were effecting my own story process. One of the sources was Carmilla, that beautiful love story between a vampire and her mortal descendant which began with a dream. My imagination is still playing with the story potential of that dream. Another is Revolutionary Girl Utena, a stunningly beautiful anime, steeped in symbolism, ritual, and a powerful f/f relationship which ends up challenging the entire concept of the prince on a white horse. A line from that anime haunted me, "Princesses who aren't saved by princes become witches." It turns out I got the line wrong, but it already flowered and bloomed in my imagination. Songs and music are constantly inspiring me in various ways. I don't have a favorite appropriation, although I adore the song, Snow White Queen by Evanescence. I'm constantly seeking how to dig deeper in these myths and legends, how to figure out way to unearth their cores in ways that will inspire other readers in turn, allow them to think and express themselves, just as others once inspired me.

2. What's a fairy tale retelling/appropriation written by someone else that you'd recommend? What did you like about it?

I'd recommend Revolutionary Girl Utena if you like anime. It doesn't center on one particular fairy tale, but the myth of the prince himself in so many of them. The main character falls in love with the prince and tries to become a prince herself. She ends up truly exploring the very heart of what that means and how it's effected girls (and boys). At the same time, it's very symbolic and doesn't offer easy answers to events which are often surreal and dreamlike. I doubt anything has ever inspired me quite as much as this particular anime. The manga is gorgeous, too, although it doesn't delve quite as deep into the surreal world created around Otori Academy as the anime does.

3. Do you have any favourite snacks or beverages that you tend to have close-by when you're writing?

Coffee. Breakfast of novelists, at least this novelist.

4. Has there been a TV show you've been really interested in lately? Tell us about it.

Tokyo Ghoul, although I'm more interested in the manga than the anime. The first season was amazing. The second season cut a lot of Kaneki (the main character) and Tsukiyama (his stalker and former enemy) from the series. It's an urban fantasy world where ghouls live among humans, often preying upon their flesh. Kaneki, the main character almost becomes a ghoul's prey, but an accident leads to him being turned into a ghoul himself. He needs to eat flesh, but he's oddly human in certain ways, including smelling delicious to other ghouls. This attracts the attention of Tsukiyama, the Gourmet, whose fussy tastes in flesh often draw unwelcome attention. He decided he wants Kaneki. He does some fairly villainous things to get him in the beginning. Later, he tries to become Kaneki's ally in order to get close to Kaneki and eat him. Tsukiyama ends up coming to truly care about Kaneki, though. It's been fascinating to watch this character arc.

5. Do you listen to music when you're writing? Personally, I prefer as much quiet as my kids will let me have!

I prefer quiet, too, when I'm actually writing. Music is one of my favorite tools for getting inspired, though.

6. Favourite Star Wars movie? Or if you're not a fan, what major series would you rather discuss?

Return of the Jedi. I love how Luke sets out to try to redeem Darth Vader, the journey of trying to pull him from the dark side while the Emperor and Vader are trying to pull him in. It struck me as being very powerful, leaving me with a fascination for characters with sinister family members and/or loved ones, along with redemption arcs.

7. What ways have you gone about promoting your books? What do you think has been the most effective?

Twitter, Google+, tumblr, Facebook, Goodreads, wordpress, blogger, livejournal, dreamwidth, and handing out business cards when an opportunity presents itself. I'm not sure which has been the most effective. (wry grin)

You can connect with K.S. TRENTEN here.

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    ABOUT C.B.

    Book reviews, Author Q&As and more as shared by an Australian lesbian. My core interests lie in genre fiction: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Horror etc.
    ​
    My aim is to help provide more exposure to those books that  may not fit neatly into the usual "lesfic" boxes (EG: pansexual women who engage with different aspects of their sexuality, non-binary characters, books with very little romance etc.) or books that don't conform to the most popular tropes that tend to dominate the LGBTIQ+ publishing world.

    That said, I'll put up pretty much any review that I'd like to share. Most will have some sort of rainbow content, but not all. I am a reader who likes to talk about books -- that's really what this little corner of the web is for, to talk about books.

    ​Email: celestialbooks [AT] rebeccalangham.com.au

    Twitter: @ceLEStialsff

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