More praise for This Is Heaven

A new review of This Is Heaven, on Amazon:

5.0 out of 5 starsYou know you want to be bitten

March 16, 2018

Format: Kindle Edition

This is Heaven. Yes it is. The sequel to GREEN EYES. I'm a big fan of Ampersant. I've read a lot of his work. Let me tell you that I read this book slowly and took my time. Actually the story was so good I wanted to just keep reading. The reason. He uses action and thrills and you want to savor the sex scenes and learn from them. Especially getting bitten. Come on, admit it, you want to be bit too. What I also like about the book that it continues from the Green Eyes. It's a month later or ten years later. It's the next day, of sorts. I wasn't expecting that and I'm happy it was that way. I am happy with this book and waiting for the next one.

(We're working on it)

The sequel to the Green Eyes---available now


("click")

Fill in the blanks

If utilitarian calculations are to be applied, they need to be fully applied. For a package of political benefits, these evangelical leaders have associated the Christian faith with racism and nativism. They have associated the Christian faith with misogyny and the mocking of the disabled. They have associated the Christian faith with lawlessness, corruption, and routine deception. They have associated the Christian faith with moral confusion about the surpassing evils of white supremacy and neo-Nazism. The world is full of tragic choices and compromises. But for this man? For this cause?

---Michael Gerson in the Atlantic.

White House update

Happy Pi-Day again

(Pi: the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter)

This morning...still raining

When I woke up, during dawn, the clouds were still touching the top of the rock across the bay. 

We all know Goodreads has had it's share of drama

 (Fragment of a page recently found on Goodreads:)

Mona > Goodreads Status Update

Mona added a status update

We all know Goodreads has had it’s share of drama. We’re battle-scarred & throw up our hands saying “we just want to read books”. 

So, I, too, got the message from the troll "Tammy". But, unlike some, I believe what she posted is true. And IF any of it’s true, it isn’t just drama. It is HUGELY problematic, potentially illegal, and has the power to really hurt people. 

Please, just think through a few of these things:

— Mar 11, 2018 01:57AM

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message 1: by Mona (last edited Mar 11, 2018 02:03AM) (new)

Mar 11, 2018 01:58AM

Recently the author MA posted on his blog an entry showing pictures of himself. He said it was because anon trolls were trying to dox him and out his personal information - something he’s long said he’s tried to keep private, though much of which he himself has shared online. *shrug*

In this post he himself admitted to sending fake pictures in the past to people in his readership and friend circles. He admitted to this lie. It hurt a lot of people, people who trusted him. That sucks. But maybe, for some of you, that doesn’t sound like such a big deal…fake pictures? Meh. But it’s the lie that sets this stage. 

You and me

GFF logo

GAY FLASH FICTION

"ADDICTIVE. UNIQUE. SPECIAL. Witty. Philosophical. Extraordinary." --- another review of the Green Eyes

Gay Book Reviews has a new review of the GREEN EYES, by Lena Ribka. Enjoy:


THIS BOOK IS DIFFICULT TO REVIEW/RECOMMEND…

WHY:

1. GAY EROTICA.

This book was a nominee for LAMBDA 2016 in the category Gay Erotica. It is not a genre that can compete with MM Romance. Yes, I know, the majority of MM Romance Readers want a lot of SEX scenes in their books, but not THE KIND of Sex Gay Erotica offers. Gay Erotica is not about the romance between the two. It is about libido in the first place. Sex in the genre is often dirty, unclean, rough, aggressive and reeking. Are you ready for it?

2. A VERY UNUSUAL WRITING STYLE.

For me it was a winner. But I’m aware that the style Michael Ampersant delivers/offers is not everyone’s cuppa. Do you understand THIS KIND of humor?

WHY this book is ingenious:
You treasure all LAMBDA nominees. You have just to know them.
You estimate a SPECIAL writing style. I assure you, you won’t come across SOMETHING like this BEFORE. Michael Ampersant’s style is UNIQUE.

The inimitable style: 5 stars.
The story itself:doesn’t matter.

It is one of those books where the writing and the way of telling is much more interesting than the story itself. I think that it could have at least 50 pages land some long-winded observations less. But the way the WHOLE package is made is so unusual and ridiculously delicious, the humor is so profound, that in spite of all my complaints, I need just to read more by the author.

Honestly, I wanted to DNF it more than once during reading, it was mostly WTF-“eye-rolls”. BUT. I. JUST. COULDN’T. I had to come back. AGAIN and AGAIN. I don’t know, but it is something about this book that difficult to explain, difficult to describe and difficult to separate from.

ADDICTIVE. UNIQUE. SPECIAL. Witty. Philosophical. Extraordinary.

The Lambda Literary Award finalist

"Click"

Stop the bullet, kill the gun

"Oil, oil...!"

And, anything the GREEN EYES have to add to this? Sure, always. Here, Part II (This Is Heaven), CH. 20, The Headless Horseman. Alex and John have left Juliette's hotel room and the scene of a Barbette Bienpensant provoked flagrante, a scene also involving Juliette's new friend, Romeo:


Alex laughs. Chuckles in an old-fashioned way. Slaps my shoulder—even though that’s difficult on account of my head-rest—we’re in the truck, heading to the hospital where Alex needs to be for unclear reasons. “You are contagious dude, yes, you are,” he says.

“What?”
“The post-coital checkup, this is so you, you could have invented it.”
“Never heard of post-coital checkup.”

He hoots. “Gotcha, gotcha.” He cocks his head (which he will do a lot for the remainder of this episode). “I shouldn’t laugh,” he adds. “I believe.”
“There wasn’t any blood,” I say.
“They’ve possibly changed the sheets in the meantime. ‘Room service, room service, we have a de-hymenation.’ Or there wasn’t anything like a virgin…like in the first StarWars movie or what. They are lost in the desert, and the robot shouts, ‘Water, water.’ And the princess shouts, ‘Room service, room service’.”
“You don’t make sense.”
“No, it was Mel Brooks. A Star Wars parody. The robot shouts ‘Oil, oil.’ Spaceballs was the title.” Alex looks at his watch. “How much time did they have? Eight hours, nine hours. They did it four times. Five times. It hurts the first time. But then—female orgasms aren’t automatic, you know. In this case, however, I’m confident—she looked so otherworldly.” He gives me this look: “This is heaven, John, I told you.”

The sequel to the Green Eyes---available now


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Today

(Yes, it's snowing:)

The new face of liberalism

Explains everything

Sogni pensieri parole --- a new review of "This Is Heaven"

Cool, folks, cool. We have a new review of "This Is Heaven," an Italian one. It was originally posted on I mei sogni tra le pagine, but is also available on GoodReads and supposedly on Amazon, and it's by S.M. May, the famed Italian author of oh-so-teasing SM-work. S.M. is actually a full-fledged attorney at law---perhaps not so much of a coincidence. Here she goes:


Like the first book, “This Is Heaven” has a bizarre and crazy plot. John, the narrator, tells us of the volatile relationship with his partner Alex, which is further complicated by a gaggle of new friends.

The scenes are often surreal, the dialogues full of jokes and witty quirks. There’s an initial sense of disorientation, but the reader eventually learns to understand the extremely particular/original---and, at bottom---cynical/sarcastic voice of Michael Ampersant, which hides, and thus reveals, a vast cultural/literary background.

From the famous incipit (“It was a dark and stormy night”) of the cataclysmic Chapter 47 to the numerous quotations and allusions in the text: it’s a real treasure hunt.

Ampersant is a very good author who loves to play with words, and the art of writing. And how can we not appreciate a writer whose author picture is captioned: “The author picture is a bit outdated, but not photoshopped” (?). [LOL]

The sequel to the Green Eyes---available now


("click")

Yesterday --- Lunch at the Excelsior

So, we went for lunch at the Excelsior.

It's a hotel-restaurant located on St. Raphael's boardwalk, right next to the casino. We went there before, numerous times in fact, but only for drinks. Michael had taken notice of the menu-on-display, and observed that (1) it's printed, and (2) dated. And it all came back to him, an article read in DER STERN, a German magazine, more than forty years ago, about a German woman who had married into the Beaune society---Beaune, the capital of the Burgundy region---in order to live the life of the 19th century. And so she did, with price-winning recipes and a husband who owned a press specializing in printing the daily menus for local restaurants. Back then---when France was still living the tradition of "la table"---any decent restaurant would have a daily menu (your produce has to be fresh, fresh, and fresh), and it would be printed. 

Michael then explored the Excelsior a bit more, and concluded that all the vibes were pointing at said tradition---forgotten almost everywhere else in France (menus now being inspired by the specs of over-achieving freezers)---and so he began suggesting that one day (one day) we (we) might have lunch at this place. And eventually Chang consented, and yesterday was the day (Chang is a great lover of oysters):

Make love, not war!

Find a caption

This morning

Ever heard of Bob Marley?

(Give it a minute:)

The yellow parrot --- Green Eyes III --- "Ripley under ground" --- teaser

Cool, folks, cool. We somehow failed to get excited about the interaction between Sarah and her robot (the play we had started), but now, out of nothing, blissfully unprepared, we began writing the first chapter of the next installment of the GREEN EYES saga, "The Yellow Parrot"---yes, the previous part had a chapter about her already, an now we are going full Enid Blyton. (I'm fairly certain that a seasoned agent or publisher would advice a change of title, first thing in the morning).

Context: John has been asked by Alice Sandeman to replenish her shrinking stock of Eleanor Beasley paintings---Eleanor Wagner-Beasley, Godehart Wagner's spouse of convenience, now deceased. If your read the first part of the saga, you may remember that Eleanor specialized in canvasses of white dots painted on white backgrounds. So that's what John's doing in Alex's old pad, which has been transformed into a hide-away studio. 

One more thing, the chapter is titled: "Ripley Under Ground." And one more thing, we've hit another speed bump in the space-time-continuum, and were kicked right into the year of the Trump, 2017.


And now what? A typical Ampersant opening:


The doorbell rings. 

Alex’s attic is entirely on the wrong side of the tracks---compliments of his depression when he got the place three years ago---and so the bell is not a RRing, but a squirt of dying electricity. I buzz the buzzer carelessly, Amazon never rings twice.

A middle-aged man scales the stairs, huffing a bit, keeping his eyes on the rickety steps. He’s dressed in a rumpled, yet darkly-precious suit (made of silk-linen from Iran, his home country, we’ll learn later). There’s also a breast pocket handkerchief, which enters my focus when he arrives on the landing and raises his head. “My name is Souren Souleikan,” he says, lips poised, voice mildly accented, his eyes peeking past me into the den where Composition  #117 resides half-baked on its easel. 

He allows for three useless seconds of silence, then asks: “You are Alexander Iglesias, I take it?” 
“No,” I say. 
“Interesting,” he replies, his regard moving from my counterfeit composition to my left, smudge-painted hand. 
“Who are you?” I ask. 
“I’m Suren Souleikan,” he reiterates, smiling falsely. “The art critic.” He allows for more wordless seconds, then adds, “I’ve come at the right moment, I see. There’s some art that might need my attention. May I come in?”
“I’m busy,” I say, raising my dirty hand, but he’s already stepped into the den where he positions himself in front of my composition.
“You are the artist?” he asks, pointing at the canvas with an abstracted gesture. 

We told you so

Buy the book:

"Click"

From live reviews: 

"If you like Woody Allen, you will enjoy the book!" 
"I dreamt of the GREEN EYES and woke up happy." 
"Grab it an plan to read it from cover to cover immediately!" 
"A literate and wonderfully witty romp!" 
Wow! That was my first reaction to reading this book, my second reaction was plain and simple holy shit!"
"This is a perfect book for any adult reader!"

Last night

"And brother, can she write" --- book review of "Need to know" by Karen Cleveland

We get an email from John Grisham, the author, who talks about the "heady days" of his breakthrough novel, "The Firm," and about Karen Cleveland's firstling, the spy novel "Need to Know", which is apparently poised to mirror his own success.

Since we're wondering increasingly what makes a successful book of fiction, we push the Amazon button and download Cleveland's ebook.

The best thing about the book is the motto, taken from Oscar Wilde:

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.

Not the best thing about the book is its implicit promise of authenticity. The author is herself a counter-intelligence (CI) expert with the CIA, and so one would expect her tome to convey something of an insider's view of modern spying. Well, to the extent that it does, Cleveland's profession has gone the way of most other occupations: workers and co-workers are couched in cubicles where they stare at computer screens when they don't spy on each other or drive home to collect offspring from overpriced private schools that charge five dollars per child per minute of pickup delay. And after a sexless night (Goodreads reviewers have congratulated themselves on the fact that there is no sex in the book) she kisses her husband ("Matt") goodbye and is back to Langley where she---in this age of algorithms---has been developing her own ALGORITHM, a program that's supposed to filter Russian spies from the rest of the population. Even better, her task is accomplished and today's the day to put her invention to work. She hits a few keyboard buttons and there he appears on the screen, her first Russian spy, and it is---spoiler alert---her husband, Matt.

French for beginners --- Ikea

(Maud sends us this cartoon:)

Had enough of Facebook?

Winter in a shit-hole country

(Give it 20 seconds or so)

Yesterday

Thunderstruck

Fire and fury (3)

Yesterday

Picture taken on the beach of Théoule sur mer, next to the site of the former Marco Polo restaurant.

Checking facts

We're reading the Fire and Fury book by Michael Wolff that came out on Friday, and it's much better than expected, much deeper than the usual collection of scabrous/scandalous anecdotes. Wolff really proffers insight---Krugman, in his Friday column in the NYT wonders rhetorically whether he needs to read the book---yes, Paul you do, trust us. 

And here, just in between, the funniest thing we came across so far, and by our reckoning still unaccounted for in the weekend news cycle of this publication...

Steve Bannon and you-know-who

(Dramatis personae: (a) Anthony Scaramucci,  (b) Steve Bannon, adviser to Donald Trump; (c) Ryan Lizza, a journalist with The New Yorker; Place: US East Coast; Time: July 2017)

Anthony Scaramucci

Having lobbied desperately for a White House Job for seven months, Scaramucchi has been appointed White House Director of Communication. There is a party to celebrate, and Scaramucchi ("The Mooch") has had one too many, apparently. He gets on the phone with Ryan Lizza and unloads about a few people, including Steve Bannon, we quote: 

"I'm not Steve Bannon. I'm not trying to suck my own cock."

So Ryan Lizza writes this up (he publishes roughly one piece per day on the NY blog about Trump and his White House). Next thing, the Fact Checking Department of The New Yorker contacts Steve Bannon and asks, hands down, whether he has the habit to suck his own cock.

(That was the punch line).

Reince Priebus

You may remember what followed. Reince Priebus, Chief of Staff of the White House, throws in the towel, citing Scaramucci's appointment. Priebus is replaced by John F. Kelley, a retired 4-Star Marine general, whose first order of business is to fire Scaramucci.