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It will not fit!

Godzilla spitting out

Godzilla in a scene from the film 'Godzilla VS. The Smog Monster', 1971. Godzilla is the son of the atomic bomb, the sacred beast of the apocalypse. You have you fear, which might become reality, and you have Godzilla, which is reality.

Don’t worry, those quotes will make sense in a moment, and you’ll regret you ever opened this post.

The author of today’s new addition to my “Bookshelf of Hell” writes under several pen names, and is what I would call an expert at hijacking. By that I mean that the blurb and somewhat tasteful cover will make you think you’re about to read a bona fide romantic suspense, with lots of guns and evil scheming, but as you read, little gunning occurs (well, not literally, anyway), there’s an insta-intraction hitting the characters with the strength of a hummer, and hot sex becomes increasingly central to the plot. Around 20% said hot sex happens, and from there, the author doesn’t look back.
You’re now reading hardcore porn. You’ve been hijacked.

I don’t plan on reviewing every single book this author has written, but I will confess to having considered writing a BoH post about a previous installment in the same series as the book I’m about to discuss. In that God-forsaken literary piece, which diligently followed the hijacking plot structure I described above, it soon became a necessity that the hero and heroine investigate sex clubs, which led to graphic depictions of a knife hidden inside the heroine’s vagina thanks to a dildo and, somehow, donkey penetrative intercourse.

Like I said, I almost reviewed that one.

But something came my way. Something bigger.

As usual, it all started with a suspense plot harboring some decent potential: silly American girl sleeps with an evil South-American gangster, making her fall under the influence of said gangster and his crew. The gangster then blackmails our silly girl’s best friend —a clueless but ballsy heroine we will call Rica— into muling important papers for him, in exchange for her friend’s safety. And so, our heroine lands in Lima (Peru). As she attempts to complete her mission, she’s being watched and approached by a fearsome South American hitman looking to steal the documents from her. Let’s call him Ramirez.
Ramirez displays the usual insta-passion for the heroine, and, as this is a dual POV novel, we immediately get long rants about how hot and perfect she is, and how he’d nail her like Jesus to the cross if only he could (Because he can’t, keep reading to discover why…). Also, the heroine’s job in the US is being a hand model —fun detail.
There’s a trashy “Romancing the stone” kind of vibe to all this, and as usual, the writing flows smoothly, so at that point, I’m in for the ride.

And what a ride, children. What a bone-crushing, internal-organs-melting ride.

By the way, you wasted your time reading all of the above, all of that setup is little more than a side plot which will get hastily wrapped up in the final chapters. Now, fast-forward to the real plot.

Stuff happens, and after surviving a plane crash, Rica and Ramirez get stranded together in the jungle. It is established that their goal as characters is to survive and get out of the jungle to escape the bad guys looking for the documents. Rica and Ramirez are still kind of playing in opposite teams at this point: If Rica safely delivers the documents, her friend will be spared. If Ramirez gets them, he can save one of his companions, who’s being held too.

We’re at 23%, and now the hijacking begins. In spite of their tragic situation, Ramirez starts to get constant erections, thus betraying his biggest (see what I did there) and most shameful secret: he has a dick the size of the empire state building.
A schlong so monumental women run away crying when they see it.
A salami so long prostitutes refuse to sleep with him.
A banana so gigantic he killed a girl with it (that’s seriously in the book).
A turkey sausage so thick he’s still a virgin at 35 (I am not making any of this up).

A dick so big the heroine dubs it Godzilla.

WTF WTF???

It is my understanding that quite a few readers decided to call it quits at this point. Not me. I have standards. And so I trudged on, through pages and pages of agonizing priapism and terrible metaphors as Ramirez and Rica swiftly act on their intense attraction. They engage in various stages of heavy petting, while we get glimpses of Ramirez’s past, how his mother believed him to be a demon, a monster, destined to destroy women. I tried not to cringe when he recounts that his pecker was the size of a beer bottle at the age of ten. I try not to close my eyes when Rica attempts to gauge Ramirez’s size: two-feet long? No, is it only one foot?
There’s masturbation, Rica gets naked repeatedly, organic fluids are splashing in all directions, and it’s becoming obvious that their survival, the secrets documents, and even the silly best friend have become secondary to the plot.

Slime. Slime everywhere.Now, I shall answer the only question that matters: do they do the beast with two backs in the end?
Yes, 62 to 68% is one long sex scene, during which more fluids splatter everywhere. I think the author wants to reassure us that everything is overlubed and Rica won’t get hurt when the miracle occurs. Because yes, love makes the impossible possible, and in a scene that calls for Chariots of Fire as background music, Rica punches Ramirez’s V-card (his words, not mine). It will never be clearly explained how she does that, save for endless descriptions of a gallon of slime made of sweat, saliva, “juices” and semen (I’m feeling queasy too, it’s okay), and a mention earlier that she has “wide hips”. And there’s a mention of how his mile-long pole pokes her IUD during the act.

Why do I do this to myself?

Oddly enough, Ramirez seems underwhelmed when he comes out of the bedroom. He’s chatted our ears off about the tragedy of his solitary life for dozens of pages, and yet, once the deed is done, he behaves as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world. Go figure.

Anyway, the plot moves toward its resolution: Ramirez and Rica have reunited with his crew and a plan is devised to free Rica’s friend from the bad guy’s claws. Rica will have to infiltrate the bad guys’ compound disguised as a maid (BTW, interestingly, I read this book after I wrote Beating Ruby, so this is actually a pretty awesome coincidence, for those of you who get the joke). This is one of the parts that work best because, here, the author’s crisp style allows her to sketch convincing scenes. This is where I could clearly see the mark of an experienced writer.
The best friend turns out to be not only stupid but unaware that her lover is a bad guy, which kind of works: it makes for a touch of unexpected. Silly BFF is regrettably killed during the rescue, which adds some more welcome intensity. Again, that’s where this author shines, so I don’t get why she insists on writing outlandish sex scenes when she does have a genuine knack for suspense.
The dream scene where she confides in her now dead friend and sees a Godzilla in the distance, whom she casually introduces as her boyfriend is actually both funny and emotional. I wish the rest of the book would have been like that!

One last point: the ending drags on a little: we get some unnecessary angst about Ramirez not wanting Rica to live with him on his island (Yes, he has his own island. Again, this book had potential!), because she’d get bored or something. Also Rica’s hands are ruined with scratches and bruises so she can no longer be a hand model —it was a little tougher to buy into the angst, here, even though her concern is legit. Don’t worry, this gets solved by anatomically incorrect sex where Rica’s vagina ends a little below her sternum.

Will I read more from this author? Yes. Yes I will. God, I will!

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