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genao

julio-alexi genao

My biggest passion is my passion. It's really big. Also my penis. Really big also. Like my passion.

Dirty Little Secret - Ella Sheridan love the retro cover.
Salvage - Con Riley to steal happily from author Lisa Henry:THEY SEE ME READIN'/THEY HATIN'
Dark Heart - Thom Lane not much in the way of story, but compelling anyway.I found myself utterly revolted by slave culture, and the behavior of sundry charscters up to and including Master Lucan made me want to throw up.The sex is hot, if a little brief.Whipping isn't my kink, but the writing is competent, and the setting interesting.Wish there'd been more to the story than this, though.

Dirty Pirate

Dirty Pirate - Kyle Adams annoying as fuck.what a grand thing it must be to live your life as an American, cozily ensconced in the Judeo-Christian morality construct while simultaneously doing exactly as you please like everyone else.what poisonous hypocrisy.how do you go from casually slut-shaming gay dudes—a particularly common sport in MM, where it would be reviled in MF, naturally—to then idly wondering if your new friend has big muscles and fantasizing about licking him from head to toe while you grind what you have inexplicably decided to call your "noodle" on his beefcake body?how can a short story pack in so much hypocritical sexual politics in so little space?and that's another thing.story. there isn't any. the blurb isn't a teaser—it's a fucking summary.first half: why I am wholesome and not at all like those other, dirty, slutty gays, disguised as an all-about-the-boy meet cute.second half?why i am going to play power games while engaging in an extended cockparty wherein we take turns fellating one another while pretending this is not at all the sort of thing I normally do.yeah.it's that obvious.50/50: sex is shameful and I am not at all interested in it except to remark how hot you look today/please keep sucking my balls and comparing them to fresh fruit, because that's not odd at all.you don't get to have it both ways.you can't be wholesome and unsullied while still being perfectly willing to smut it up like a normal person.nobody goes to the gym to "feel their best." they go to the gym to look hot so people want to have monkeysex with them.the subtex here is vile, psychologically poisonous, and so completely false as to inspire in me a need to go fuck something in the eye.pure, bloody-minded belligerence was the only reason I completed reading this excrement after I realized that I hated it. i needed to finish it so I could hate it all.

Evening Rounds (Outsider, #2; Love is Always Write)

Evening Rounds (Outsider, #2; Love is Always Write) - Steelwhisper short—but look closer.it's packed, really. loads of carefully selected detail and offhand narrative comments that aren't at all accidental.intense, calculated, and thoughtful.as a vignette it is an elegant bit of writing—even with the odd comma splice—and it thoroughly rewards closer inspection.the intimation? the little hint of their future, at the end? delicious.

Saving Sean (Seattle Stories)

Saving Sean - Con Riley sophomore slump—or superior sequel?the answer is: yes.this book is ambitious as hell. while not entirely successful in its every gambit, it is still a damned fine piece of work, all the same.it demands you sit back and be told the story—to stop pushing, and be guided instead.over and over, you'll find yourself reading something and wondering, 'why is this here? why am i seeing this now? what about that other thing?'the narrative loops over and around itself again and again, layered with surprising allusions, parallels, and metaphors—and you'll find that in its playful structure and clever symmetry, you've been set up just right for incredibly satisfying emotional payoffs.so much skill here. so much talent.sometimes the payoffs are funny. sometimes they hit you in the gut, and stay there, aching dully for the next few pages, until the next virtuosic flourish of narrative makes you forget about it.damned fine writing.imperfect, however. i found it needed a bit of restraint above all; never dull, never pedantic, the impressively sure manipulation of timeline could still become wearying once in a while. i found some subplots slightly unnecessary, and others slightly underdone. nothing major, and nothing big enough to ever make me put the book down, except to rave about it in status updates.so: not perfect.but the payoffs, man.the payoffs, at the end of each discrete chunk of gorgeously engineered sleight-of-hand——worth it.worth it every single time.give it space to do its thing. you may wonder, and you may want—but in the end all you can do is receive, and smile about it when it's over.recommended.

The Last Rebellion

The Last Rebellion - Lisa Henry lord ha'mercy.that ending was such a surprise I actually took my hand off my cock and said 'oh!'because, just like Rho, I hadn't let go. not fully. not until that moment.the last one.in the beginning, when the sneaking suspicion bloomed in me that this was not unfolding as it appeared—I didn't let go.in the middle, watching the slippage of boundaries, remembering who the author was, and how often she'd fooled me in the past only to give me something I didn't even know I'd wanted—I didn't let go.toward the end? when I was muttering out loud as I slid my pajamas down for a good wank, and one unutterably scandalous thought stilled my hand on my cock:"holy shit. is this... is this actually a romance?"I didn't let go.but Rho did. he finally let go.I followed him.and the answer to my question was even more delicious than I had supposed.recommended.

Winter Wolf : A Werewolf Romance On Snow

Winter Wolf : A Werewolf Romance On Snow - S.P. Wayne i don't always drink beer. but when i do...hey! wtf! shifter book begun on a lark turns out to be awesomesauce? what fresh hells...?writerly nits i am unable to refrain from picking, thusly spoiler tagged that you may freely ignore them if you so wish:- breath he didn't know he was holding- poor line-editing (even a misspelt character name: 'leader' instead of 'leander,' twice)- head-hopping- oddly out-of-place characterization of a big ole bunyonesque lone wolf (ha!), replete with simpering giggles and teenaged emotional distress- slightly too-demure sexin, because c'mon: past a certain threshold of IDGAF, us gay and gay-adjacent boys, in the woods, no vagina for weeks, nobody around for miles, again, for weeks, attraction in the air like chemical warfare—PLUS booze?!?—oh, we fuckin'- a clumsy beginning that almost made me put the fucker down and walk awayBUT!check out all this awesome stuff!- wonderful banter- beautiful, jack-london-esque descriptions of the setting that served to highlight the isolation and hard-won parameters of our hero's current existence alone in the wilderness- a truly engaging MC, and a nicely-drawn, semi-douche (and thus deliciously imperfect) love interest- sly humor, served hot and pert- lovely UST that had me helplessly grinding my junk into my mattress- a vision of werewolves that actually makes a lick of sense, devoid of nearly all the power games and dominance play some people are completely obsessed with but not me and look i'm totally not judging okay so hey let's not send me hate-tweets plz kthxso.yeah.problems. soooooo many problems. and yet—somehow—this book took me so far out of my own head i forgot about the sekret pain i've been nursing for months.legit-legit. i was on that goddamned mountain with those boys.simply lovely, and nuanced, and evidence of an irritatingly fulsome literary talent i can't wait to enjoy again.and there are seeeeeeeequels!!!

Bolt-hole

Bolt-Hole - Amy Lane set aside at 20 percent.this just isn't the right book for me right now, despite being pretty good.i'm angry.***the man adventurous enough to slurp your ass like a plate of clams casino isn't going to subsequently blow you like your dick is a biohazard.that kind of guy isn't going to pull off your cock and turn his head before you come.i had sex ed in grade school—i went to a granola charter school—and i've lived on both sides of the Safety Code. i've been both super-vigilant, and super-risky.i can offer from vast and enthusiastic personal experience the suggestion that if everyone just stopped being so damned publicly PC about sex, we would never have the problem of sex in private—including imaginary book sex—trying to be both PC and hot at the same time.which is so difficult to accomplish in practice as to be more or less effectively impossible.because there's nothing hot whatsoever about a fucking rubber, and nobody buys a cozy, smutromanze murder mystery to read about a life that features things you find next to the feminine hygiene products at the drugstore.***this book is not at all any more a source of this particular irritation than any other.it's not the book's fault.i'm pissed-off at the world.three stars for what i've read so far. Amy Lane writes with her usual verve. she's got a gift for language that i am both continually amazed by and irritably jealous of.four stars, if you take out the parts that reminded me how MM can alienate me as an actual, living, man-fucking homo.because thats what it is. alienation.a pert little reminder of how different i am from these imaginary people i'm supposed to be identifying with.not just in this MM book—in almost all MM books.i've hit some sort of saturation point. this book—better than most MM—still pushed that button in me at precisely the wrong time.***for all the ways this genre can be a kind of safe harbor for lonely boys and girls looking for other people like themselves, there are just as many ways it can be the opposite.it can make me feel like the only person in a crowded room who can see the monster in the corner.it can make me feel alone.it's the way it is—and Amy Lane isn't at fault.if i had to point to any single author who most embodies the other side—the good side of MM, the welcoming and inclusive and generous side—i'd point to Amy Lane.not this time. and not just because of a couple annoyances in one of her books.most MM readers and writers may not have sucked their first cock at 10 years old.they may not have acquired the astonishing intelligence that taking two cocks up your ass at once generally does not require starting off with a single finger.they can't know, right? they're not me.and that's fine.MM books aren't really written for me.***but—forget about that.if you're confused, don't worry—explaining it fully would turn this into something even more painfully inscrutable than it already is.you only need pay attention to a single part of this whole big angrysad rant from a suuuuper-down queer in the Bronx:it's as i said.it's exactly as i've said.this book is not for me right now.
Sibling Rivals - Summer Devon i just got a book boner.WANT

The Lodestar of Ys

The Lodestar of Ys - Amy Rae Durreson like an awesome bedtime story as you're falling asleep: over before you want it to be.What hurly-burly this story was! Filled with beautiful imagery and wit and smexy interludes—honestly, I was in love and in rageface extremis all at once.Because it was too good. I wanted to linger—everywhere—but was not given the chance. The story is lean, and dense, but constrained. As if it were a succulent cut of skirt steak trimmed by an overzealous butcher. Which is what happened, I reckon. Trimming.There's no fat. It's all story. Great story, mind—beautiful, clever, funny, delightful story—but such a meager thing, in the end. A poor meal for a starving reader, and heebus chrahai was I starving.Would this had been 300 pages longer! With more of the Empire, more epic battle, more clever intrigue, more gorgeous settings—and fewer unnecessary (though memorable) side characters in the beginning. If only because those characters—so charmingly-drawn—were never given time to really stretch their legs a bit and be awesome in their own ways before the ruthlessly forward-moving hustle of the tale left them far, far behind. Bah.Maybe I'm just greedy.Maybe, when presented with such wonderfully-imagined fantasy that takes me back to my earliest public library wanderings—plus hot fucking—I can do nowt else but whine, and whine, and whine:More! More! More!

The Dead Will Rise First

The Dead Will Rise First - Logan Kain I fail to comprehend three things:1. Why a book with a blurb that begins so brilliantly (I still haven't read past the first line) exists without being in my hands right fucking now;2. How it's possible for a zombie book to have a cover that great and a title that funny, at the same time;3. What the hell this life is, anyway, if an author this immediately awesome can even be alive without also being my life-partner.I'm going to go read the rest of the blurb, now.and a taste of the first chapter, just to get a sense of the——aaaaand i just finished the book.right.well.here we go:fuck Christianity, and fuck you if you think a million soup kitchens outweighs the suffering of a single Matthew Shepard, anywhere, ever.that's pretty much the thesis of this book, and if I were this author's professor, I'd have given him his doctorate with my phone number and "lets make out" scribbled at the bottom of his paper with the "a" in "make" replaced with a big fat red heart.anyway, the story's good.I can't believe I need to specify this, but it is not MM, and not romance, so the focus is not will-timmy-see-the-love-in-cody's-eyes-in-time-for-prom.it's a satire of the apocalypse, okay?and it's really good. funny, and clever, and more and more intelligent the more you think about what happens, to whom, and when.it's self-pubbed, it's got various egregious line-editing errors, and at least two moments that made me roll my eyes [both betraying a uniquely American grasp of what's physically possible after catastrophic injury].and y'all know that is a particular irritation to me.it's got problems beyond those, too—but still: look at them.four stars.why?because those embarrassing errors cannot compare to the laughs, the disgustingly self-aware squicks, and the references to classic genre cinema.it's fun, in other words.because of passages like this:I couldn’t be strong anymore. I tried to be, but I couldn’t. Inside, I felt something fall. Not down, but in and forever, like looking into a trick mirror that goes on indefinitely.and because of the gloriously sharp zombie finger pointed at all things religious that SOMEHOW offer the excuse to hurt people HERE AND NOW on the basis of an I.O.U for eternal love and kindness SOME OTHER TIME, conveniently AFTER YOU ARE DEAD.which, you know, bonus.***PS: matthew... i never forgot you, matthew, and nobody who loves me ever will, either.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Matthew_Shepard
(In)visible - Anyta Sunday amazing—and flawed.I feel let-down.over and over, this author built incredibly powerful dramatic tension, almost effortlessly.the feelz, guys. the feelz.but my problem with this work stems from a grievous editorial choice I can't share without spoiling it.I will say only that nothing breaks my heart like a lonely boy—or a catastrophe that could have been avoided with a five minute conversation.
Eats, Shoots & Leaves - Lynne Truss a snootily superior screed on the importance of proper punctuation misspells the word 'pedants' in the blurb.let the headdeskery begin.
Easy - Ally Blue Dan Corazon is a man with a secret. Stevie Sanger is fighting a past that won't leave him alone.oho! 'corazón' is Spanish for 'heart.''sang' is the Latin root word for 'blood' in both French and Spanish.
Mongrel - K.Z. Snow oh, bugger.first time I've ever been torn 'twixt one star rating and another to any degree worth bothering with a decimal.fanule's a wonderfully inviting main character, and the more I read of him the more I wanted to know of and/or have sex with him.the setting is terrific. not as richly drawn as I'd have liked, but here and there are marvelously descriptive passages that made me want to run around learning about (and/or having sex with) everything.the secondary characters were powerfully enticing creations as well. from marrowbone the vampire to wossiname the bounty hunter with the libido of a rabbit—never mind the dismembered hedge-witch and her cat—both, sadly, deceased—there is much to admire, and many delights in store for the reader of whimsical fictions.so that's the good—but then there's the bad.it's a long list, but it's basically a list of different examples of the same problem: wildly extravagant similes that make no sense whatsoever.it ruined my enjoyment of anything else, because it snatched me right out of the story like a vaudevillian hook—and usually as I was preparing to have sex with something.I spent the last two thirds of this novel cringing and wincing, waiting for the next crushingly bad line to bring the story to a clattering, clanking halt with a metaphor tortured so recklessly as to go far beyond the mere purple into a Right Proper Eggplant.a measure of restraint (such as what inexplicably prevents me from a crisply vicious accounting of the thorough notes i took on this matter) would have permitted me to rate this a three—or even a four.but my joy in the otherwise fine and playful wordsmithing to be found in this book was quite mortally wounded by poor editorial choices, so as to sadly keep me from being able to say I enjoyed this much at all.if only.all the delicious pieces were there—just drowned in literary ketchup.two point five stars, and damned if I didn't really, really want to love this.perhaps having sex with something will ease my pain.