Friday, July 29, 2011

P.J. Jones - Book Review of ROMANCE NOVEL

Smella Rosepetal must find a millionaire husband to finance her baby’s heart transplant. She flies home to her deputy father’s ranch in Pitchforks, Texas, where she falls in love with Deadward Forest, a wealthy environmentalist vampire.

When a deranged murderer is on the loose in Pitchforks, killing romance heroines, Deadward assumes Smella would be safer without him. Smella turns to her childhood friend, Snake Long, for comfort. But Snake doesn’t have the money to save her baby, so Smella places herself in peril in a desperate hunt for a rich husband.

Time is running out for Smella’s baby, and she must escape from the Australian Outback and face down Flabio, an overweight and disgruntled, aspiring cover model, plus enraged vampire wives and their homosexual, vampire, cowboy husbands, a jealous were-gerbil, James Bond, a drunk rodeo clown and Smella’s strange boyfriend who wants to drain her blood, yet is repulsed by her smell.

My Review:

Warning:  before sitting down to read this book besure to empty your bladder, Nothing in your mouth, and reframe from reading this is "quite areas". This brilliant vampire, shape-shifter, historical, contemporary, suspense, western, medical, romance parody will have you laughing out loud. The characters are hiliarous down to their names. The Plot and Pace is awesome. The Writing is done very well. The orginially and book cover is beyond funny. This is a must buy!

My Rating: 5 Stars!!


Smella followed Deadward and his family outside. Even though it was a relatively cloudy day, all of the vampires had lathered on SPF 100 sunblock, then they slipped into heavy faux fur coats and broad-rimmed, velvet hats.

"Why are you blocking out the sun?" she asked Deadward. "Do you all have Eczema?"

"Have you forgotten that we are vampires, Smella?" He answered tersely while pulling on thick, black gloves.

"Oh, I get it," she giggled. "Sunshine makes vampires sparkle, doesn't it?"

"Sparkle?" His brows drew into a deep frown. "Where in the hell did you hear that?"

"I don't know." She rubbed her chin, pretending like she was trying to concentrate. "I read it somewhere."

Scowling, Deadward threw up his hands. "Do you think vampires live in fantasy land?" He motioned toward his family's house, a large, brooding façade, bearing an eerie resemblance to the mansion from the Psycho movies.

"No," she squeaked, feeling more stupid by the second because of that condescending look in Deadward's demonic gaze.

Turning a wide circle, he pointed to the dozens of charred and empty Suburban truck shells littering the front yard. "Do you see any Smurfs or My Little Ponies running around?"

"No." She dropped her gaze to the ground, kicking up dirt with her foot.

"We're freakin' vampires, Smella," he hissed. "The sun will kill us."

"Oh, I get it." A flash of understanding lit in her vacant eyes, and she bobbled her head up and down. "Once I got this really bad sunburn on my back when I went snorkeling. My dad said I could get skin cancer when I get old."

Folding his arms across his chest, Deadward leveled her with a sinister gaze. "Think of it as spontaneous skin cancer."

Smella's eyes widened with alarm. "That's gotta suck."

"Yeah," he answered with a sarcastic bite to his voice. Then he pulled a large pair of sun blocking glasses, the kind used by old people who ride around in Hoveround chairs, out of his pocket, and made a huge fuss trying to lower them onto the bridge of his nose without disrupting the wide brim of his hat.





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