Fiction: “Decadent” by Shayla Black

Oh … Oh holy dear God in Heaven above. I … all I can say is, wow.

It’s not a good ‘wow,’ okay? I don’t even want to talk about it, but the thing is, this blog kinda means I should, so I will.

But before I get into this, I am going to link (and possibly quote from heavily – not sure yet) to the Smart Bitches, Trashy Books review of Decadent. In addition, I am thisside of sleep-deprived and shouldn’t be writing at this time of night-slash-morning, but anyway, for the first time, I really can’t talk about this kind of stuff in euphemistic terms.

And so: CAVEAT LECTOR. (Lector? hold on, lemme double-check this … hey, I was right!) This entry will definitely include discussion of adult topics, especially of the sexual variety. If you don’t want to know this stuff, then for the love of God, don’t click the cut-link. Readers of my blog who may be under the age of 18 should probably skip this entry.

It should go without saying that readers of my blog who may be under the age of 18 shouldn’t be reading this book anyway (and I don’t think there are any underage readers, but you know my motto: “just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you”), but then I continue and say that no one of any age should be reading this book because holy God … so bad.

Also, I would like to apologize to my mother (if she happens to read this), and remind her that she has to have a sense of humor when it comes to her warped eldest child.

Okay, where to begin. So there’s this woman, Kimber. She’s 23, and a virgin. Ooookay, I’ll go with it. And she’s knocking on the door of her old friend, Deke. Deke lives with his cousin, Luc. I don’t know why Luc is clearly French whereas Duke is clearly Texan. Like, Luc is a five-star chef who could be on Top Chef if he wanted to be, and Duke is an ex-military-sniper type person. I think. It’s not important. Plus, his name is Deke. What is important is, Kimber wants them to teach her about menage. Because she has a boyfriend, Jesse, and he and his band are coming to town, and she wants to join up with them on tour because she’s in love with Jesse, even though they’ve been on a long-distance relationship over texts and emails and Tweets and now I have that Craig Ferguson jingle about “Check Ze Tweets” stuck in my head, and it’s hilarious living in my head, okay? Okay. Anyway. Jesse and the Rippers (THAT’S NOT TRUE, BUT AWESOME AT THE SAME TIME) are comin’ to town, and she wants to get with Jesse (I’ve scarred myself now), but see, Jesse likes menage, and Kimber wants to be prepared, which is why she goes to Deke and Cousin Luc, and now I’m thinking of Perfect Strangers and clearly, I need either more or much less caffeine.

ANYWAY. The point (and I do have one!) is that Kimber wants to learn about menage from Deke and Luc. And the only way to learn about menage is to engage in menage. But, she wants to save her virginity for Jesse.

I … ARE YOU SERIOUS. Anyway, because the lovin’ cousins (eewwwww) are the Best Gentlemen Ever who Ever Shared a Girl, they agree. And then they done sex.

So then – then! She goes to Jesse, and she is not ready for the road life, because the other person in his menages is not a sweet chef cousin, but kind of a dick. So she goes back to her dad, because she can’t go back to Deke, because, oh right, he has a thing against virgins: if he takes a girl’s virginity, apparently, she’ll die. So then, because my mind is a sickening deposit of pop culture trivia, I ask, a la Brodie from Mallrats, is Deke Superman, and he’s afraid … well:

T.S.: But [Superman and Lois Lane are] engaged.
Brodie: Doesn’t matter, can’t happen.
T.S.: Why not? It’s bound to come up.
Brodie: It’s impossible, Lois could never have Superman’s baby. Do you think her fallopian tubes could handle the sperm? […] What about her womb? Do you think it’s strong enough to carry his child?
T.S.: Sure, why not?
Brodie: He’s an alien, for Christ’s sake. His Kryptonian biological makeup is enhanced by earth’s yellow sun. If Lois gets a tan the kid could kick right through her stomach. Only someone like Wonder Woman has a strong enough uterus to carry his kid. The only way he could bang regular chicks is with a kryptonite condom. And that would kill him.
T.S.: How is it that I go from the verge of hot Floridian sex with Brandi to man-of-steel coital debates with you in the food court?  [From Mallrats, written and directed by Kevin Smith]

And then my mindgrapes continue, and yell, “COOKIE STAND ISN’T PART OF THE FOOD COURT.”

Holy Jeebus ANYWAY. She goes back to her dad, right? But wait, her dad’s a general or a colonel or some high military rank that escapes me, I’m not looking it up, okay? And he’s got some crazy guy after him, and as she’s talking to someone on the phone (see above about not looking it up), A BOMB GOES OFF AND HER FATHER GOES INTO A COMA. Y’know, after she manages to rescue him. So because, clearly, Kimber could also be a target, Deke and Luc agree to keep her safe from the Crazy Bomb Guy and take her to a shack in a swamp where no one can find them … and …

Are you serious? Are you serious?! So after all of that, and yeah, everyone lives happily-god-damned-ever after (oh, sorry, SPOILER ALERT), I’m sitting here on my couch, clearly giddy with sleep deprivation, and all I can think is, “How does this crap get published?”

And then I remember the “dust moats” from Twilight and think, “oh, right.” And also, I apparently hold porn to higher standards than others?

So before I forget, here’s the review from Smart Bitches, Trash Books. Scroll down to the blockquote in the middle: that’s an actual quote. I’m still surprised my loud laughter didn’t wake my roommate up at 3 in the morning two weeks ago when I got to that.

I also would like to point out that, at one point, Ms. Black refers to an orgasm as being ‘ginormous.’ Why do people look at me funny when I use that word in reference to elephants or other really large things, but apparently editors believe that ‘ginormous’ is a real word? Oh, right, dust moats.

Oh, that’s right; this takes place when Deke is saving Kimber from the Crazy Bomb Guy:

Deke pointed to the farthest corner of the closet. “Sit here on your hands. Don’t move. If you even twitch, you and my friend SIG SAUER are going to get to know each other real well, you got me?” [322]

SERIOUSLY. A), who speaks like that, and B), what kind of grown man sniper-type-person can’t think of a better name for their gun than its model name? I mean, “SIG SAUER”? Is it supposed to be capitalized like that? Why not, I dunno, Brando, or Rambo, or hell, Geoff Peterson? Something with a little more panache? WHY AM I READING TOO MUCH INTO THIS.

Grade for Decadent: Twilight Stars.


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