Ok, this book has nothing to do with one of the prizes, but I have an ARC to give away, and this cover makes me feel verry verrrry creative. And really, there is no law at Smart Bitch HQ that says I have to make any sense. Whee! So, two prizes, one contest, and my thanks to April for the linkage and the original question.
Take a look at the picture below the fold. In the comments, tell me what he’s looking at. A few words, a narrative, a poem, whatever. Just tell us what he’s looking at. The two best winners as judged by you all and yours truly will win either (a) a copy of Rhonda Nelson’s The Hell Raiser and The Loner OR (b) my ARC of C.L. Wilson’s King of Sword and Sky (which is due out in October). The fabulous folks at The Dorch sent me a digital copy and a paper copy, and when I asked and said “Please,” they said it would be spiffy to give my paper ARC away to one of you lovely readers. Comments expire in 24 hours.
So, on your mark, get set, and tell me: What’s he looking at?! What’s he saying to himself?
“Ve haf vays of making you talk.”
“Gratuitous animal tattoo. Freakishly chiseled muscles. AND a monstrously huge dick. Damn I’m in yet another paranormal!”
Where is my butt? Did it switch around to the front?
Say hello to my little friend.
Ah, come on…this isn’t a contest. The answer’s right across his butt.
He’s looking at “the enemy.”
He’s frowning at a stain in the towel and thinking, “Didn’t they say this spray on tan would come off?”
Truth in advertising, indeed 😉
“I really should have that third nipple removed.”
Jason studied his purple-tipped manhood carefully and tried not to think about the earlier humiliating encounter.
I don’t know what she’s thinking. He couldn’t stop hearing Josie’s scornful words.
“Oh my.” On her knees, she’d given him the same concerned look the mechanic often used right before explaining the doo-dad whatzimatoozy would need to be replaced. The look he’d gotten from the electrician who’d told him to replace the wiring in his Victorian-era cottage or else prepared to be roasted alive.
She looked at his groin again, moved closer. Squinted like a near-sighted girl who’d lost her glasses and was trying to read the newspaper.
Finally she shrugged. “Well, I’ll do what I can with this, but it’s gonna cost you more. And I don’t guarantee results. Vienna sausages like this little guy are usually more trouble than their worth.”
With a shake of his head, Jason pulled himself back to the present.
Things hadn’t worked quite the way he’d envisioned, but it was fine. Really. Just the right size.
“I told you, Mini-me, they’d never see you inside the towel…”
Okay…woke up in a cabin, naked and wrapped in a towel, by a roaring fire, with some weird-ass tattoo…Mistress Heather! First time’s funny, third time’s just f—ing annoying!
“Shrinkage is a bitch!”
Waking up with the crabs.
Damn that diabolical enemy!
It’s so big I can use it as a spit. Don’t worry, I won’t show you until you’re really ready for it.
“Look into my Eye, That’s right, you want to sleep…you are feeling your control slip…”
“Round….and round….sleepy… so very sleepy…. “
“That’s right… Soon I shall possess all of you…. Muhahaha.. “
You know buddy, we’d be having way more fun if that hot chick who can’t be trusted was here.
“Hello, old friend. Looks like it’s just you and me… again.”
Umm, is it left over right, and under? Or right over left, and over?
He’s looking down at the heroine, a photographer for Dicks of the Month magazine, who’s taking close-up shots and saying, “This is my best side.”
I couldn’t resist, it just popped into my head…
~~
As he started to take off his towel, he looked shyly away from the mirror above the hearth and stopped, breaking their eye contact. All she could see was the top of his head, the tension rippling through his shoulder muscles. His winged tattoo seemed to take flight as they moved, and she gulped. Nice. Very nice.
“Before I do this, I need to tell yo…”
“Just strip.” She snapped playfully. “You lost that last hand, fly-boy, not me.”
He sighed, looked back over his shoulder, then down to his privates again. She wondered just what he was worried about. A scar? An ugly birthmark? A thought crossed through her mind that perhaps he was really a hermaphrodite, and she stifled a giggle.
“It’s not funny.” He remarked. ” Seriously…”
“What are you looking at?” She asked, as he stood, open to the fire, obviously debating on whether the game had gone too far. She cleared her throat and he sighed, the towel pooled around his thighs, each hand crinkling the edge. It took him a few moments, but he finally spoke.
“Well, you see, there was this training mission a few years back, and, well… my plane crash landed in the desert. We were off track and lost. Some hunters from a Bedouin tribe found us, and they nursed our injuries back to health before they took us to a nearby town to return to the squadron. In that time, well… err… they have certain customs.”
“What kind of customs?” She queried, more curious by the second, holding back the urge to yank the towel away from his perfectly formed ass-cheeks. A piercing? Perhaps a brand.
This was torture.
“Uhh, well… You know, like those blue turbans they wear.”
She nodded. She’d seen them. They dyed the skin of the men who wore the cloth across their noses a deep blue, sometimes their hands were dyed as well. Suddenly, it dawned on her.
“You mean to tell me your…”
“Yeah, apparently that is a custom too, supposed to be an ancient charm to heal…” He said quietly, and turned around, finally letting the towel fall.
~~
“If I rub it , will it grow?”
Fire-demons give the best blowjobs. It was fantastic to have that rumor confirmed. It was worth it, he supposed, but the burn marks were just unsightly.
Oh shit. My herpes is showing again.
*sigh*
Why the hell did I sleep with my enemy?
Those Viagra commercials weren’t kidding about the 8-hour erection. Huh.
I knew I shouldn’t have slept with her, I wonder if the fire will kill the crabs.
“Watch the teeth this time, okay?”
“Has anyone seen the fluffer?”
‘They always say the best things come in the smallest packages, don’t they?’
“Well I don’t know where you’ve been lad, but I can see you’ve won first prize.â€
Tsk, tsk . . . . stealing that line from a song, isn’t that grounds for . . . . . . something?
I am just saying . . . .
Yeah, it’s a slow day for me.
Bet she’ll be sorry she had me fixed when she thought I was merely a dog…
(Should be mentioned that the theme was bogarted from some horrible joke my father-in-law emailed me.)
James paused, a fleeting memory from his drunken week in San Francisco playing through his still hazy brain.
He remembered something about the hotel bar and three thousand women. The memory, a bubble rising in rapidly boiling water, surfaced.
He unwrapped the towel fearfully , his fears confirmed. His firm flanks to his adonnis belt of desire had been signed. Scrolls of lovingly written names, suggestions, phone numbers and GPS locations for something called “The Pleasure Box” flowed over his rippling muscles.
“Well shit.” he muttered “Looks like I DID go to RWA this year”.
Who the f**k has towels that say “dry clean only?”
“Mom was right; from now on I’m using a stick to toast marshmallows!”
“I should look into having that growth removed…”
“Euuuh! Why didn’t you didn’t tell me the cat was sick?”
Traitor.
Phil glared at his insubordinate member. Was it expecting too much to perform a simple drill? Hell, he wasn’t expecting it to rise up from the dead. He just wanted his cock to stop falling asleep the minute he put on its little latex suit. But no, this private only stayed at attention when it was out of uniform.
Well, if standing in front of a fire was the only way to stay hot, then by God that’s what he’d do.
Where did it go? I swear it was here a minute a go.
“Well I’m ever upper-class high society
God’s gift to ballroom notoriety
And I always fill my ballroom
The event is never small
The social pages say I’ve got
The biggest balls of all” . . .
His nice ripped set of 6-pack!
I’ll bite. I’m guessing his third nipple has begun to migrate.
Voiceover: “This package will self-destruct in five… four… three…”
OMG!!! Is that a gray hair!?
I wonder if only my hairdresser really will know for sure.
(Stand85 security word hahahaha)