As part of my wonderful ManLove Queer Erotica Special Sale And Celebration sale, here's a kick-ass review of my book, Me2. Enjoy!
Brian Jewell from Edge Boston (and Bay Windows):
Until the most recent movie version, each iteration of Invasion of the Body Snatchers
has been tailored to the up-to-the-minute fears of its generation. This
eerie novel goes where the Nicole Kidman vehicle should have, drawing
on conspiracy theories, urban anomie, identity theft and consumerism to
create a subtle horror tale about erosion of the self. The nameless lead
character is a shallow twink, over stimulated but isolated, who has
acquaintances and tricks instead of friends, and products and catalogs
instead of values. After a street crazy puts the idea of pod people in
his head, our hero starts noticing strange things. People are referring
to conversations he doesn’t remember and events he didn’t witness. Does
he have a double? Is this doppelganger trying to steal his life from
him? And does this interloper come from outer space, a secret government
cloning lab, a disordered brain, or is he a thought experiment come to
life? Christian keeps the reader guessing, using repetitive language and
a deliberate pace to evoke our Everyman’s sense of disorientation and
disconnection as he realizes that no one would notice if he were erased,
while barreling towards a suitably trippy conclusion. Like a lot of
good science fiction, this is as much a contemporary social satire as an
unsettling fantasy.
As part of my wonderful ManLove Queer Erotica Special Sale And Celebration sale, here's a rave review of the book from my pal Colleen Anderson:
From
the title you might think this is about drinking, or murderous
monarchs. If you thought one of these, you’re close to the heart of the
matter. But really it’s both, about bloodthirsty vampire queens. Some
are not so much queen as just murderous gay vampires. If you’re familiar
with M. Christian’s work, you know he’s a prolific writer, and his
writing includes erotic tales straight, gay, lesbian, etc. He’s very
versatile. So I confess to thinking this book would be about gay
vampires with a lot of erotica thrown in. Though it has sensuous details
this is more the tale of a gay vampire trying to gain experience as a
detective. It’s a murder mystery with the supernatural thrown in.
While
vampire detectives are not necessarily new, a gay vampire detective is.
Valentino is thrust into the crime scene on a personal level, since his
mentor is missing. And the crime scene: Vespa scooting vampires are
killing the folks of San Francisco and risking the outing of all
vampires, who tend to live by a code so that they aren’t hunted down.
Coupled with mentor Pogue’s disappearance, Valentino has two mysteries
to figure out.
The book opens with three different
beginnings as Valentino tries on his authorial voice. This sets the
tone, and gives this character high twinkiness. Valentino is a flamer,
vapid and vain. The character was so irritating and flittythat I nearly
put the book down, but his way in the world was intriguing. I think M.
Christian might have cut it down a bit but then I realized there is a
good reason about a quarter of the way into the book on why Valentino is
acting this way. He comes to discover what’s been done to him and his
personality deepens as it’s unlayered.
Valentino
relies on other supernatural help and Christian’s writing uses some very
descriptive phrases. For being an undead guy, Valentino is vibrantly
alive and given to over verbosity that doesn’t stop in describing his
zombie driver: “One time–big shudder here–I had caught a look at his
eyes, two puss-filled boiled-egg eyes staring, unblinking, straight
ahead, and didn’t sleep well for a week.” Of course that should be
pus-filled not eyes with cats in them, but I blame the publisher for not
putting a proofreader on it or maybe they did and missed it. There are
very few typos, which is a good thing.
You get a good
sense of Valentino’s world as he sees it. “Finally, the Brass Ass of the
Great Emancipator (Abraham Lincoln) led me through silverfish heaven to
a narrow doorway between the piles…In it was Saul, tarnished silver
hair, rainbow sweater unwinding in spots into primary colors, brittle
bones showing where unwinding yarn couldn’t hide it, eyes like bleached
robin’s eggs, Indian blanket in his lap hiding the bones I knew weren’t
just brittle but also didn’t work, and, because of those legs, an
ancient wheelchair.”It took me a moment to realize he meant realbones,
not bony legs; the visual setting is very concrete.
Much
of Valentino’s descriptions go into overdrive, with buckets of
adjectives. They hit their height when he’s talking about his lover,
Julian. “Oh oh oh Julian Julian Julian–beloved, adored, venerated
companion, compadre, mate, playmate, partner, betrothed, idol, best
friend, love, lover–oh oh oh Julian Julian Julian…” A bit much? Yes, but
then this is the turning point for Valentino.
Events
pick up with dire and catastrophic discoveries. I don’t want to give it
away but let’s just say the Very Bloody Marys are brutal, relentless,
sociopathic, fashion sensitive vampires. As the fog clears from
Valentino’s eyes he finds his world isn’t as he suspected. Sure it still
has a few supernatural beings but all is not what it seems. He still
richly describes things but there is a darker vein now to the vampire
detective’s perspective. “The inky blackness didn’t so much as run as
steadily walk out of that doorway. A pooling, a billowing, a smoking,
and then up and into arms and legs and a wide-brimmed hat pulled down
over hooded eyes.”
When Valentino runs into Ombre,
even the supernatural shade notices something has changed though the gay
vampire tries to hide it. “It’s just that you seem different somehow.
The flippancy is still there, that much is clear, but it’s like
something else is missing.”
And Valentino has changed
on several levels. In the process of discovering what has happened to
Pogue, being threatened with permanent annihilation and in stopping the
brutal gang, he earns his wings. He solves the mysteries, stops the
Marys and finally grows up a bit after 200 years. M. Christian wraps up
the tale in a very satisfying and unpredictable way. It’s one of the
many bright spots in the story; very little is predictable. You won’t
see this as another tired take on the vampire trope. It’s refreshingly
bright and if not a complete happy ending, one with suitable revenge.
If
you’re looking for a good, fast paced read, or if you like mystery or
fantasy or gay fiction. Or if you just want something different and new,
this book will be as satisfying as a vampire’s first drink of blood.
As part of my wonderful ManLove Queer Erotica Special Sale And Celebration sale, here's a kick-ass review of my book, Running Dry by Billierosie.
Thanks so much, Billierosie: you are a real treasure!
In RUNNING
DRY, M. Christian, elegantly re-writes the eternal themes of love, loss,
betrayal, fear and death. With a flourish of his pen (or lap-top and
cursor) Christian gives us a potent potpourri, that has little to do
with gracious fragrances and everything to do with the pungent stench of
bodily fluids; blood, bile, saliva and mucus.
This is a
vampire story with a difference. Unlike Anne Rice’s exotic, erotic
Lestat and Bram Stoker’s sinister Count Dracula, M.Christian’s vampires
are riddled with guilt about what they have to do to survive. Ernst
Doud, paints his guilt, with portraits lurid with the blood of his
victims. Doud has a conscience, and he makes it up to those he has
killed with a visual, tangible lament. His remorse is palpable.
There’s
a mystery here. Who is Doud? Who is Sergio? What is their secret? Why
has Doud given up on his art? Why is Sergio trying to seek out Doud? Why
does Doud want to kill Sergio? What is Shelly’s place in all of this?
Yes, Doud and Sergio are monsters. They know it; Vince is a monster too. But he’s worse; he’s a killer without a conscience.
There
is no “dark trick” in RUNNING DRY. Doud, Sergio and Vince won’t
spellbind you with a glamour. In the tradition of the most gruesome
fairy tales from the Brothers Grimm, or Angela Carter, they grab you,
gobble you up; eat you. Your death won’t be romantic, erotic; sexy. Just
complete, total annihilation.
The scene where Doud
fights Vince in the desert, is terrifying. It’s visual; like watching a
film. My heart is racing, as I read. I can feel the heat of the desert,
scorching my lungs. I screw up my eyes, against the glare of the sun;
the painful blue of the desert sky.
M.Christian, possesses a rare gift; that of making elegant, lucid prose appear effortless.
Just listen to this:
“...the
world acquired sound, the ground achieved traction, the air thinned,
the rose-red glow ceased. As his body slowed from the blinding
acceleration Doud had forced upon it, the monster’s body completely
disintegrated. A body once ninety-five percent water became nothing but a
desiccated five percent, falling apart into dust, ash, and a few
brittle bones; life and moisture gone.”
Don’t you wish you’d written that? I do!
For me, RUNNING DRY is every bit as good for a second reading; better. Buy it, borrow it, read it. It won’t fail you.
